


come back home

by xtyokhcin



Category: ONEUS (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst, Blood, Eventual Relationships, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Gen, Gunshot Wounds, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mentioned Other K-pop Artist(s), Minor Character Death, Mystery, Mythology References, Nightmares, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, Slow Build, Tags May Change, Team Dynamics, Tonal Dissonance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:55:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 42
Words: 92,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25565470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xtyokhcin/pseuds/xtyokhcin
Summary: The dark shroud of a forest was what Youngjo called home, though perhaps more aptly it was the house within the woods where he could live with his coven. It would be better — truer — to call home as whatever he made with Geonhak and Dongju.Hwanwoong found home in the embrace of Keonhee and Seoho. He was running, running faster than he had ever run, from something that was chasing a different shadow. Keonhee and Seoho took him by the hands and told him to breathe, to slow down.Perhaps, they could find home with one another as well.(If only it were that easy. There were still rays of the sun that aimed to chase out the shadows of the moon. Perhaps six could outrun Helios.)
Relationships: Kim Geonhak | Leedo & Kim Youngjo | Ravn, Kim Geonhak | Leedo & Son Dongju | Xion, Kim Youngjo | Ravn & Son Dongju | Xion, Kim Youngjo | Ravn & Yeo Hwanwoong, Kim Youngjo | Ravn/Yeo Hwanwoong, Lee Keonhee & Lee Seoho, Lee Keonhee & Yeo Hwanwoong, Lee Seoho & Yeo Hwanwoong, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Comments: 147
Kudos: 156





	1. one.

**Author's Note:**

> hi! this is my first work in this fandom and with this sort of theme,,,, hopefully I do them both justice! i'm trying out a multi chap as well,,  
> The fic is inspired by the Come Back Home and Twilight MVs!!  
> This work is unbeta-ed. all mistakes such as grammar and punctuation are mine! Enjoy reading.

They hunted and were hunted in equal measure. The bright red glimmer of the moon casting rivers of velvet on the ground seldom brought peace to the hearts of those who walked with bleeding feet. There were breaths hidden in between the wretched, wilting leaves. The growling and crawling of beasts mingled with those of cursed monsters. 

For them, centuries and seconds felt tantamount. The only idols of worship in their dire lives were the warmth of others and the flashes of red that fell from wounds. In their bodies there was anger, and wrath, and the bloodshed known only by those who had lost the crimson in their veins. In them there was the cold of lonesome and the depravity of death.

They could be warm. They could wrap shaking, calloused fingers around each other's skin and feel the thrum of heat that their bodies could not supply them.

They could be as warm as three figures sitting within firelight under a bloodlit night, sharing the spoils of their hunt and shielding each other from the threatening daylight. Warm like eyes watching for moving leaves and listening to cracking thunder so that two could sleep.

It could be as warm as carpeted rooms and velvety walls. Warm like the thrum of electricity buzzing and then fueling ambient lights that glowed comfortingly at the center of a dining table. Warm like the hum of a television and finely threaded wool.

But it could be so cold. It could freeze unbeating hearts and snuff out flames of confidence. It could trample over spring and fall into winter, a suffocating descent into snow building in your lungs. 

Fire could be stolen, and a night was only safe until the sun began to rise. A patient gaze was only patient until there was too much to watch and too little time to take. Walls could be torn down and hope could be crushed.

And breaths froze, locking at the sight of blood that wasn't theirs but shouldn't have been shed nonetheless. Crimson did not belong on verdant grass, nor in pools that smelled distinctly of something lost and ancient.

Dripping, liquid life should not seep out of lifeless skin and yet here they stood. Six bodies were caught in a standstill, a pair of three's that mirrored each other in a sick parallel. 

•────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅────•

One man crouched low on the ground, staring at the standing form across him that held two buckling figures. Red stained the tattered white clothing of one pair as the other recoiled at the encroaching mass of crimson on the forest floor. 

It felt cold, Youngjo thought — arm splayed out behind him to push back Dongju and Geonhak — feeling ice form in his stomach. Monsters didn't bleed their own blood unless Death was chasing their heels for the second time. 

And Death was only civil when you met them last. 

Youngjo wanted to ask what they were doing here. He wanted to give in to the voice whispering behind him that said his place was here and this was his alone. He wanted to make them leave.

But he needed to know why there was a wound on one of them. He needed to understand why the evidence of a hunt was standing in front of him and yet they'd failed. He needed to know how he had never heard their steps crack branches in his land. He needed to know if the woods he'd considered safe must be uprooted for it to once more understand he alone ruled over it. 

"Who are you," is what he accused, poised for a strike as he watched the vampire in front of him struggle to keep their companions upright. Only one of them was wounded. Why?

He heard the reply, the answering, "It doesn't matter. Do you have any medical supplies," and bristled. The moon was high above their heads and he wanted to tear it down, ask it what it saw. Instead he repeated the question, watching closely as the — older? — man's eyes flashed scarlet after a whine from one of his coven sounded. The forest ate the sound and filtered it through the leaves, turning it into a meaningless thing. Youngjo still had no answers.

Geonhak was palpably agitated, inching closer and closer past Youngjo and catching the intense glare of the stranger. 

"Don't," the man warned. His voice was alluring in the way all beasts sounded of, and yet it was so distinctly dangerous that Youngjo felt the first strike of fear ring the chords of his heart. 

Thralls to him tasted of sour deception, and intimidation was nothing more than a futile tool when under watchful red eyes. This was neither of those. This was roots ripping apart soil and making a place for itself where none should be. This was immovable and chaotic, unwilling to sway under the battering of anything. 

Geonhak flinched, yielding to the crushing sensation of being spared. Dongju remained silent, eyes wide and young as they looked on. But still he tried to grab at Geonhak's wrist and draw him closer. Draw one of his protectors to safety. 

Youngjo wanted to check on them, comfort them and tell them to head home, but he couldn't take his eyes off of the group in front of him. The oldest began to crouch, laying his companions down on the ground, turning his back to Youngjo. 

It wasn't a display of trust. Most definitely not — what with the motion exposing the angry tears ripping flimsy fabric in patterns that mirrored the shapes of the bleeding boy's fingers. Youngjo didn't want to stand despite the opportunity, a terrifying thought forming that it would be perceived as threatening by one of the three opposite him. 

All three reeked of fear, though Youngjo couldn't tell if it was from it or because of it. The sun had set only ticks ago. The most dangerous things in the forest should have been them.

(And they were.)

In one moment, there were two lying figures and one watching over them.

In the next, the dark-haired vampire was pushing his wounded partner into the ground, a pinched expression watching as an unsuspecting rabbit was caught between fangs. Three, seven, eleven, twenty. Twenty feet, from bleeding, standing, curling, and capturing.

"Hwanwoong," was the pleading call.

Youngjo blinked, bile rising in his throat. He hadn't even been ready for them to move. The seconds hadn't stretched enough, time hadn't molded around them. 

Twenty feet was fine. It was possible. It was easy.

But he still hadn't heard them breathe.

What _were_ they?

"Dongju," Youngjo whispered, training his eyes on the writhing form of Hwanwoong. He had a name. He had one name and still no answers. He'd needed less to topple men; needed just a breath to crumble bravery and reveal arrogance inside. But right now he had a name and he didn't know what to do with it.

The fledgling slowly, slowly, slowly came up beside Youngjo, reluctantly letting go of Geonhak. He didn't know whether or not to look at the scene in front of them. 

Hwanwoong, whoever he was, was being held down by a member of his own coven. Painfully restrained while blood continued to form rivers and lakes on the ground. 

Dongju couldn't wrap his head around it. All he could do was sidle up to Youngjo and listen.

Youngjo felt more of the warmth seep out from his fingers when Dongju retreated, shakily telling Geonhak that they'd need to leave. Their home should not be left alone and they should not leave its kind confines. Not after Youngjo saw what it could hide in its surrounding forests.

He still didn't understand.

He heard the breath that was taken as Geonhak tried to resist, stubborn in his desire to stay. Yet he could taste the anxiety rolling off of his own coven and knew that Geonhak's bravery was tenuous. He didn't want to aggravate the delicate situation, fearing what the crashing moon may have had to say. 

And then he was alone.

"Seoho hyung?" 

Youngjo's head snapped to the rousing figure. Bloody but uninjured. The vampire had blood matted over his skin and through his dark brown hair. There was an easily read expression of confusion, and Youngjo's head was spinning with all of the questions he had yet to ask. 

"Keonhee," Seoho replied, the words faint to hear even for monsters, teeth grit and gnashing together. Hwanwoong was beginning to slow. His fangs were retracting from the bloodless rabbit he'd caught. Seoho was still pushing him into the ground, apologetic but ruthless. Youngjo started to stand, keeping his vision trained on the now identifiable vampires. 

Hwanwoong, bleeding, held down by the form — Seoho — that seemed larger than life, that dwarfed the night's own darkness. Keonhee was left, open and unthreatening as he stumbled in grass and drew closer to his coven. He was the only one Youngjo could glance at without discomfort burning behind his eyelids. 

What were they doing here?

It took every breath he'd stored in his lungs but Youngjo stood at last, fingers curled and talons cutting shallowly into his palms. "I can offer shelter." 

Three sets of eyes snapped to him, two flashing scarlet and then black. Hwanwoong's remained a dull maroon, physically drained. 

When Youngjo looked in them for the smallest width of time, it made his heart bleed. 

Another question; another answer he wouldn't have. These three were silent in ways he hadn't thought they could be. Was it the time? His blood was black and pure, but would that stand contest with those that lived with nightmares following behind them? 

"I've asked my - coven and told them to go home. They'll have set up food and materials you and your friend would need to heal his injuries."

Seoho's shoulders drew up, a snarl on his lips directed violently at Youngjo. 

Youngjo barely contained the need to run. Towards or away from the sound, he wasn't sure. The clouds seemed to mock his indecision as they began to cast shadows on the figures in front of him, draping them in hellish blacks, reds, and greys. But still, he was not heartless. Hwanwoong looked sick, Death circling around him like a vulture. 

Youngjo wondered if he would ever stop having so many thoughts running amok in his head, all manners of inquiry screaming and clamoring. 

"We'd like that," Keonhee said, crystal voice cutting through the air. It was more comforting than the snarling and aggressive presence of Seoho — kinder than Hwanwoong's looming waves of cresting poison.

But it left nothing of a choice, gentle and friendly but glassy. Sharp and close to a thrall. 

It was the most normal thing Youngjo had encountered from the three, and he felt himself unravel slightly at the exposure to it. 

"I'll lead you there. We have sutures, though you'll have to make do with my handiwork."

Seoho practically sneered. "We aren't letting you touch him."

Finally, Seoho relinquished his grip on Hwanwoong's tattered collar and let something other than terrifying power permeate his air. Youngjo watched as vulnerability crept into Seoho's features. 

It scared him. You didn't show vampires outside of your coven your weaknesses when you were in their territory. Not when you were hiding. Not when you were those who had no shelter to turn to in human hands.

Not unless you were sure you could slaughter them the moment they tried to exploit it. 

"Woong. We'll patch you up quickly, yeah?" 

Seoho was answered by a small whimper followed by Hwanwoong weakly batting away the drained and lifeless rabbit from his own lips. Seoho pushed it farther away and Keonhee flung it a distance from them, easily displaying the strength that contradicted his lithe silhouette. 

Pulling out a necklace that Youngjo couldn't make out the look of, Seoho told Hwanwoong, "Take it." Hwanwoong tried to refuse, but a fresh gush of blood made him seize and whine. Even from this distance, Youngjo couldn't decipher the accessory's shape or material, only the faint color of gold. The misty glamour around it was telling.

The instant that Seoho clasped it behind Hwanwoong's nape, Youngjo's eyes dimmed, and it had nothing to do with swirling, golden magic of the amulet; light itself seemed to flicker out from the moon.

Shadows flitted and danced, skirting through the air as they crept from Seoho and latched onto Hwanwoong. 

With a sinking stone dropping in his chest, Youngjo watched as the shadows made themselves at home. 


	2. two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter two! again, all errors are mine as this is unbeta-ed.

Keonhee was a welcome distraction from the cacophony of mystery that his companions were. Youngjo's mind was exhausted, his heart unruly after all of the anxieties. Keonhee was the breath of fresh air he didn't need, enough of a comfort that Youngjo told them his name. If Youngjo were any younger, or if he were just more foolish, he would almost want to befriend the other. 

He was clearly, definitively aware of the fact that he was inviting a strange coven into his own abode, allowing them into a safe haven that was for _his_ family. It was his own kindness, yes, the desire to help those that had been beaten down. 

But he knew it was _fear,_ as well. He did not delude himself into thinking he was brave at that moment. 

The world was not kind to them. And still that did not dictate the kindness of those that were deserted by the light. For them, warmth was sought out.

They defaulted to cold mercilessness. They defaulted to monstrosity.

"Youngjo?"

Keonhee's gentle, curious call startled him. _Stupid._

Youngjo looked around, tracking where they were. He had stopped walking, stewing in his thoughts for too long and getting distracted. Seoho was staring grimly at him, carrying a half-conscious Hwanwoong. Still, the shadows crawled along the bloodless skin if Youngjo looked hard enough. They billowed from the surface on Seoho, but they ate through Hwanwoong, filling in spaces where you would never find them. 

What was _in_ that necklace?

"Sorry. This way," Youngjo said. 

The grass gave way under their weight, branches cracking as they stepped through the dense forest. It had been a few minutes since their meeting in the clearing yet the unease from it still clung to their skins. 

Seoho remained aloof and suspicious, constantly glancing between Keonhee and Youngjo. But the intimidating demeanor was less overwhelming now. Youngjo could finally breathe the air without feeling as if he was encroaching on whatever it was that was Seoho's and Seoho's alone.

Keonhee on the other hand was companionable, mostly silent but willing to converse with Youngjo about things like, "What does it look like?" and, "If you're comfortable, what are the names of the other two in your coven?"

Keonhee hadn't been miffed when Youngjo kept silent about both queries, in fact offering a tentative smile. The layer of blood — Hwanwoong's, now that Youngjo could center his mind enough to actually try and smell the scent — did nothing to reassure Youngjo, but it was the sentiment, he supposed. Vampires often weren't patient. 

Hwanwoong was asleep. He was still bleeding, red now coloring Seoho's shirt. Keonhee and Seoho were both worried over him, visibly checking in on the smallest of the three and even tearing off bits and pieces of their clothes to staunch the wound. Halfway through their trek through the woods, Youngjo had offered the flannel he'd donned on top of his shirt, and Keonhee had thanked him while Seoho set Hwanwoong down and tied the fabric tightly around his shoulder. 

Hwanwoong had woken in the middle of the process, suddenly crying out and trying to push Seoho away. 

"Hurts," Hwanwoong had whispered, eyes squinting up in pain at the grimacing Seoho. 

"Sorry, Woong. You did well with the rabbit. We can't have you lose any more blood," Seoho told him. Again his eyes were soft, bleeding with affection.

"After all, a rabbit only gives so much, Woong-ah," Keonhee added. "We'll fix you up and then I'll go hunt something for you."

The mention of a hunt made Youngjo uneasy. Not because he doubted them; he knew that they could hold their own. Even Hwanwoong, in his wounded and weakened state had managed to… to catch Youngjo unaware.

But what had managed to sweep _them_ off of their feet?

The forest was familiar to Youngjo. His family had held down its soil and made roots plant themselves in the sand. They cut down the oppressive, bright danger and warned it of their simmering darkness. Whatever there was in the forest, they knew better than to bare teeth at those who shined brightest when the light died in the sky. 

So what _was_ it? What had torn into Hwanwoong's shoulder and made him bleed?

Youngjo couldn't ponder over it, too afraid of what answer might lie at the end. 

Instead, he picked up his pace and breathed as he saw his home come into view. He took in all of its dark stone exterior and the wooden accents, feeling once more settled with the knowledge his coven was inside; that he was home and he was strongest here.

When safety was so close, when it was just in reach, the other three beside him were — and for this thought, he could tell himself that he could be a fool — unimportant.

"Come in," Youngjo murmured as he passed them, quickly crossing into the threshold of his home, greeted by the warm flush of air and golden lights. 

He could hear Dongju shuffle into a faraway room, Geonhak bolting it lightly shut as they waited. The faint smell of blood wafted through the air alongside meat and freshly made sheets.

Youngjo began to turn into the dining room when he realized that Keonhee and Seoho had stilled, supporting Hwanwoong as he tried to stand after being put down once more by Seoho. Blood dripped onto the ground just outside of the house.

"H-Hey," the boy greeted, attempting a smile. He was clutching his shoulder, face contorted in pain.

After taking the sight in for a moment, thoughts flitting by and then coalescing, Youngjo bit his lip, eyebrows creasing together as an apology. He felt a pang of protectiveness suddenly, stubbornly rise in his heart, seeing the wounded man try to stand up enough to ask him. 

"Mind… inviting me in? I think I was… out of it when you told them."

Hwanwoong's voice was shaking but considerate, mild in tone and sweet. There were no shadows.

"Of course. Come inside," Youngjo rushed to reiterate. Hwanwoong gave a weak chuckle in thanks before falling once more into Seoho's arms.

Youngjo led them into the dining room, pulling out chairs and then silently going over to the fridge. Blood tracked itself across the floors, soaking through the flannel and other fabrics on Hwanwoong's arm. 

Youngjo took out two bags of blood from the fridge, grabbing the recent deliveries. He poured as much as he could of one into a tall glass and then placed the bags on the table in front of the three, watching warily for what they would do.

"Have him drink up first," he said softly, keeping his voice low. 

Hwanwoong was listing onto Seoho's seat, practically in the eldest's lap. Keonhee took the glass and raised it to Hwanwoong's lips, watching as Hwanwoong hungrily drank it down.

Youngjo's heart squeezed, pained at the sight of the obviously famished triad across him. 

He took a good, long look at them. 

Seoho's cheeks were sunken and his fangs were peeking from his lips. Brown eyes flashed red as they trained themselves on the clean crimson liquid. He was strong. That, Youngjo was sure of. But his body was buckling, tired and stretched taut. His fingers were gaunt and his skin was pale. The shredded clothes on his back revealed multitudes of faded scars.

Keonhee was thin and slighter than Seoho. But he looked fuller, less jaded and worn. He was warmer, brighter in comparison. Still, the blood on his shirt told Youngjo that Keonhee was the one that found Hwanwoong first after whatever it was that happened. Whatever winding smoke that bit wounds into Hwanwoong had been outran by Keonhee.

And Hwanwoong — Death was still watching, waiting for the scales to tip. He was ashen and ill, the first glass of blood doing practically nothing. 

But he was _shining_. It was enigmatic. The dark figures slithered along his veins and yet behind them Youngjo could almost see golden light. His bloodstained skin was still worrying, and yet Youngjo felt calm by looking just slightly under the layers of the forest and the hunt that rooted in Hwanwoong. It was odd and worrying in its own way. 

Perhaps Death had not taken him because he was not held, not someone you could take without being burnt up by whatever star he held inside of him.

And still, Youngjo's fear of him grew. They were creatures that crawled in the moonlight. How was it that Hwanwoong was exactly that and yet the exact opposite?

Hwanwoong finished the first bag of blood — after Keonhee had poured more out — and his eyes flashed a deep red, finally reflecting their cursed color as some form of life once more filled his veins. It was always fascinating to see for Youngjo, who sometimes even watched his own eyes do the action despite decades of seeing it. 

Hwanwoong caught Youngjo's stare and offered an uneasy smile. Youngjo startled but returned it.

"You can open the other bag," he told them, gesturing to the remaining container. 

None of them moved for it, though, and so he cautiously reached over near their side of the table and opened it, handing it to Keonhee. When Keonhee began pouring blood once more into the glass, Youngjo went over to the oven and took out the meat they'd prepared earlier. 

He began cutting the meat to split among the three. "Have some meat as well. We usually eat with bread or rice but I don't think that would be very helpful…." he said. He heard Keonhee make a sound and Youngjo turned.

Keonhee looked at him, acknowledging his concern, but just waved it away and sighed. The younger trained his eyes once more on Hwanwoong who was discreetly pushing the remaining blood to Seoho.

"You can ask for some if you want."

Seoho's and Hwanwoong's gazes rushed to meet with Youngjo's and for the first time, Youngjo saw something other than protectiveness in Seoho's expression. 

Seoho looked _sheepish_. An attempt at a smile, a hand coming up from behind the table, and a stretching silence.

"... If that's okay?" was what Seoho posited. 

Youngjo's expression screwed up for a moment, thoroughly confused. Seoho _sounded_ different too. More innocent, completely different from earlier's dense suffocation. Like all of the mist was lifted and left the crystal lake, but it tore out everything that Youngjo _knew_ about him.

He was reminded abruptly of how _little_ he did know about them. And they were in his home now, with Dongju and Geonhak only a few seconds away. 

But they hadn't hurt him. That had to mean something. 

"Of course," he replied, taking out another bag of blood from the fridge. He set it in Seoho's polite hands and watched them eat. Keonhee was noisily enjoying the beef and Hwanwoong watched Seoho drink his own share of blood straight from the bag. 

He once more stepped away, walking to the cupboards and then taking out the medical kit they kept under the sink. Geonhak had set it up and he was also the one that maintained its supplies. 

At the thought of Geonhak, he pondered over whether or not he could go talk to them. Youngjo felt nerves spark on his skin at the thought of leaving Seoho's coven to their own devices. 

Would Geonhak and Dongju even want to exit the room while the three were in their home? 

Youngjo knew that he himself was wary but he was also older, more used to the hunt than the other two. Especially Dongju. Dongju was kissed by the moon in all manners of ways, and it would stand to reason that the fledgling wouldn't want to interact with older vampires. 

But he also knew that they _could_ hold their own. 

(He just hoped they wouldn't need to assure that fact.)

He held up the medical kit to the three, waiting for one of them to grab it and start tending to Hwanwoong. They had finished their meals and seemed marginally more energized. Still they looked horrible; soot and grime and blood, but they seemed less angry.

Nobody took the med kit from him. Not even Seoho, who was looking slightly — if not _extremely_ — uncertain. 

"Could we have a chance to clean Hwanwoong up first? Disinfectants are expensive and we'd need to go through a bit if we used yours as it is," Keonhee asked.

Youngjo blinked. 

"It's no problem," he said. He was becoming more and more befuddled at the shift in demeanor. These three in front of him were entirely different from what he'd seen.

Youngjo saw them try to refuse but then they paused, eyes flashing suddenly. Youngjo whipped around in alarm, arms coming out in front of him too late.

Dongju was standing there, nervous and shaky alongside a stern, suspicious Geonhak. Youngjo felt his heart stop.

"Are they staying?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How we doing with the stage break,,,,  
> Please leave some comments or kudos if you enjoyed!


	3. three.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, all errors in the writing such as punctuation and grammar are mine!

Hwanwoong froze, and then his eyes flashed again in tandem with his receding into the chair, Seoho's arm supporting him and Keonhee softly applying pressure on his wound as they hid as well. They melded into one shape, cloaking themselves in each other's mild shadows.

Like this, Youngjo could remember what they felt like in the forest.

Now, they looked as scared of Youngjo's coven as Youngjo was theirs.

"We should get going, actually," Keonhee said uncomfortably. 

Geonhak, interrupting Youngjo's attempt to retort, said, "Showers would help you before you go at least. There might be animals that could cause you trouble if they smell blood." His voice rang deep and obviously distrustful, still cowed. But he knew what he was saying. 

Youngjo glanced at Seoho, who was pointedly looking over Hwanwoong.

An awkward air snaked between them for a handful of moments, furtive glances shared as they pretended they hadn't locked eyes. Dongju, inquisitive and warm as he always was, tried to start conversation once more only to falter. Geonhak kept on looking at a Seoho who muttered something to himself and looked back in return, only to face Hwanwoong again. Keonhee seemed mostly uneasy but calm, eyes skimming over the room multiple times.

"We don't want to stay," Hwanwoong said softly, an anxious tone coloring his words. Keonhee puffed his cheeks but nodded, looking genuinely regretful. Seoho thinned his lips, expression turning funny and confusing Youngjo again. 

Youngjo's thoughts flashed to dark woods where he crouched before a shadow that swallowed the trees. He had tasted blood in the air and in his lungs, bleeding and clamoring as life tried to escape him in its vestiges. He thought of the sound of lightning air, thunderous silence as what once laid there no longer did. The feeling of electricity grabbing his arms and pulling him, grounding him to a stubborn earth. He remembered a measured spiel and a sure set of words; ones that had assured him of nothing in all its forms.

And yet all he could see now was anxiety and alongside that, they looked _lost_. Especially Hwanwoong, who couldn't look up from his stare at the floor but who twiddled his thumbs. From Seoho and Keonhee, whose expressions were honest and ever so human.

"Is there a reason?" was Dongju's quiet question.

Youngjo winced. Dongju had always been soft-hearted. And yet the question needed to be answered.

Earlier, they had seemed so sure about coming here. Staying had never been stated and yet it had been implied, however short that time may be. Losing such copious amounts of blood like Hwanwoong had undoubtedly weakened any vampire. A shelter for at least a day would allow his wounds to close.

"Yeah," Seoho answered. He sighed and pat Hwanwoong once on the head before he faced them. Geonhak took a step back.

"Something was... following us," the oldest vampire admitted, awkward with how he used his words. "And we wouldn't want it to find its way here."

Youngjo furrowed his brows. A flare of wounded pride burned through his skin.

"We can handle ourselves," he said flatly. 

They were strong on their own. Youngjo knew his coven like he knew the stars in the sky. They ran and they dug their feet into the earth, unshaking from where they must be. They were heat and flickering fire, filled with the hopes and wishes that anyone could have. They were bright and eternal, faster than thought and longer than loneliness. 

"You aren't even sure if they haven't tracked you here, are you?"

Apprehension flashed in their faces and he saw Keonhee's eyes dart once more through the room, fidgeting with a ring on his finger. Seoho ducked and shook his head.

"No, but they aren't here _yet_ ," Seoho pressed, slightly agitated but smiling.

"He's still bleeding," Dongju said, gesturing to Hwanwoong. "And — both Ravn-hyung and Leedo-hyung made a point. There's safety in numbers, too, right?"

Youngjo startled.

 _Leedo_. _Ravn_. Did Dongju really think them so severe? Maybe they were. 

It took Youngjo that moment to realize that he'd shed his own alarm unlike Dongju. Especially now that his coven was there beside him.

But Seoho' coven deserved - more than that. He could extend the olive branch.

" _Geonhak_ was right," he corrected tentatively, watching his coven's reaction. Dongju looked at him oddly, but Geonhak's face remained neutral.

A sea of nothing seemed to extend between seconds, their breaths all frozen in the air. 

Two stubborn parties, Youngjo thought, almost humored if not for the absurdity of the situation. 

(They were welcoming a strange coven to stay with them, in fact even attempting to _convince_ them to do so despite being clearly afraid of them. And the coven in question was somehow persistent in their denial, the bleeding vampire beside them withstanding. 

Gone were the two triads that were a hair's breadth away from hissing at one another in visceral violence, now morphed into two covens that couldn't seem to come to an agreement about how much blood was too much to lose and how much a risk was worth it to take.

Youngjo should have chuckled. Truly absurd.)

"We're pretty stubborn, and so are you guys. But really, stay. We'll stay out of your way best we can. We just... want to offer some help. You all seem roughed up and I'm guessing that whatever was chasing you gave you a hard time," Youngjo offered once more. 

Hwanwoong sighed and looked at Keonhee with a suffering expression. 

"Keonhee?"

Keonhee himself released a breath, perhaps exasperated. 

He turned to Hwanwoong and Seoho and suddenly began speaking in a tongue that Youngjo couldn't understand. Neither could Dongju or Geonhak, expressions betraying their utter confusion. 

A sense of familiarity simmered at the sound of it and yet Youngjo couldn't place what it was. Not a language that could be learnt by tutoring or through schools and not a country's words. But he couldn't remember what. Seoho and Hwanwoong replied in the foreign tongue, sounds fluent and melodic. 

Another set of seconds skidded by before Keonhee turned once more to Youngjo, even regarding Dongju and Geonhak. 

"Okay. We'll stay for a little bit. Enough to rest up, at least. We'll try and help around with whatever you need us to," he said, decided and unwavering as he looked away from his coven. 

Hwanwoong was shaking his head in apparent defeat, gently laying his head on the crook of Seoho's neck and simply staying there. He was still bleeding sluggishly. 

Youngjo gently walked over to the two, outstretching his hand as he looked to Seoho for permission. Seoho shrugged and nodded, allowing Youngjo to gently tap Hwanwoong's arm. 

An irritated look flitted through Hwanwoong's eyes when he opened them before smoothing over.

"I'll show you guys to the bathroom. Clean your wound up. We'll prepare you some clothes to change into," Youngjo murmured. 

Seoho took to carrying Hwanwoong in his arms again, tailed by Keonhee. Dongju and Geonhak were following behind the three as Youngjo led them through the short hallways of the house. He opened the door to the bathroom, stepping aside to let them in. 

"You're all awfully nice," Hwanwoong grumbled as he was put down from Seoho's arms. "We're strangers to you, and first thing you saw of me was me chasing a poor rabbit."

Youngjo hadn't seen the chasing, he didn't say. 

"I'm not a dick even though I look like a typical Pureblood," was instead Youngjo's answer, shrugging and smiling. 

Hwanwoong and Seoho stared blankly at him. 

The sound of water hitting ceramic filled the air, Keonhee turning the sink in the tub on with a helpful gesture from Geonhak. 

Youngjo was beginning to think he'd said something wrong until Seoho laughed lightly, eyes forming crescents from his smile. Youngjo could pretend he didn't see the blood on his shirt and rather focused on how natural the expression looked on Seoho. There was an ease to it.

Seoho said, "You don't," at the same time that Hwanwoong chuckled and trudged over to Keonhee. Youngjo tilted his head, drawing his brows together inquisitively. He decided not to comment. 

"We'll leave you to it then. We'll just put the clothes by the door and the med kit is over by the sink. Feel free to use the shampoos and whatnot."

At the mention of using any of the things in the rather well-furnished room full of an assortment of vanity products, some discomfort once more appeared on Seoho, Keonhee, and Hwanwoong's faces. 

"We have some suppliers and we go out to buy things anyway. It's fine."

"Now it just feels like we can't use any of your things," Seoho said jokingly. Hwanwoong smiled brightly at the apparent fib as Keonhee laughed, the former peeling off layers of bindings that wrapped his wound and the latter testing the water. 

As the shredded fabric of Hwanwoong's own sleeve came to join the rest of the bloody pile of cloth, they finally saw exactly what it was that made Hwanwoong bleed.

It looked like a bullet wound. Two. Clean, with an entrance and exit wound for both. 

Youngjo felt a momentary spike of fear. He hadn't thought about what exactly it was that was chasing them, but he quelled the thought as quickly as it rose.

They could handle it regardless. 

This was his home, his _family's_ , and he knew what there was. He knew the trees and the grass, felt them give under his feet. Walking through its woods had assured him that it was still fearful, willing to yield under his fingers. The breath of the night would fill his lungs, and he could tear the blood from whatever tried to tear apart their silence. 

He turned finally and left, leaving with Dongju and Geonhak in tow. 

•────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅────•

They found themselves in Youngjo's room, quiet and contemplative. Dongju was hugging Geonhak and Youngjo was playing with Dongju's hair, all of them arranged on the wide bed.

There was an entire other coven in their home. One that they had left alone, with one bleeding and another that was two things, neither at the same time. 

"How long do you think they'll stay?" Dongju asked. He was absentmindedly biting down on Geonhak's shoulder, who did nothing more than wince and let himself be bit after a light complaint. 

Youngjo sighed, dropping his hand onto the sheets. "I don't really know. They're… odd."

"They're scary," Leedo said. He still seemed disconcerted, which was understandable. Youngjo himself wasn't sure why he was so lax with the other coven. Perhaps it was just him expecting the best of them.

But he hadn't forgotten the terror that had curled deep in his ribs, crushing his chest, the first moment he'd seen them. And it was just — peculiar.

"They seemed so… different."

By the silence of the other two, even they had noticed in the few minutes they had spent together.

Youngjo propped himself up on the mattress, sitting and placing himself close to Geonhak. Geonhak didn't mind, just taking the hand that Youngjo outstretched and fiddling with the rings on it.

Youngjo looked at the two again, Dongju still teething and doing testing bites on Geonhak's tough skin. 

"Seoho looks different, doesn't he," Youngjo began saying. 

Geonhak hummed but agreed, glancing at Youngjo. "What did they say to you? You were with them for a while."

Youngjo told them, waiting as they sat and laid down on the bed to listen. 

He told them of the instance Keonhee had woken up, seemingly uncaring of the rest of the world. Of Seoho facing away from Youngjo and yet baring himself to the audience of the sky, looking at Hwanwoong and speaking softer than Youngjo had ever felt flutter against a heart. 

But also of the amulet, transferred from one's skin to another and seeming to only truly _belong_ to Hwanwoong; the shadows seeping from the night and forming cracks that filled and covered glowing skin. Of the walk back, when he'd begun to notice that they seemed to dissolve under the quiet of travel and simply exist rather than resist. 

He told them about Seoho's sheepish smile, his cautious attempts at requests. He told them about Keonhee, his easy and warm, almost just instinctively _right_ presence to balance out the oddity of his coven. And of Hwanwoong, who had stood, bleeding, to ask to be let inside and yet had the brightest orbs swimming behind dark eyes.

And he told them that he wanted them to stay, seeing bruises on their skin and scars over their arms. They were creatures of the night and they were born of lonesome, but they were not made from monsters. They were human, once in a time, when he cannot remember. 

Youngjo knew as much when he said that their hearts craved the warmth that the dark stole away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! hope you're doing well. If you enjoyed, please leave some feedback!  
> Also,,, those concept photos, huh ? :')


	4. four.

They looked far better after taking a bath. Their hair was no longer caked in a layer of copper, nor their skin. Their faces seemed less grave and less scarred by violence. There was the slightest of smiles, even. 

Dongju took the soiled clothes and put them in the hamper to clean and fix later while Geonhak took the towels and arranged them into a rack. 

"How's the wound?" Youngjo asked. Hwanwoong looked at him and then at the bandages wrapped securely and comfortably around his shoulder, under an oversized, short-sleeved hoodie borrowed from Dongju.

"Better. Thank you," Hwanwoong said with sincerity, though somehow lacking any sort of inflection.

"We had to go through a bit of water, sorry," Keonhee apologized quickly after, fixing his hair and the sleeves of his pajamas. "And you guys will have to deal with seeing my ankles."

Keonhee was very tall, Youngjo's satiny clothes cutting off low on his calf though fitting well enough on top. Seoho fitted into the loose shirt and joggers from Geonhak perhaps only because they weren't form-fitting, while Hwanwoong was swallowed by the hoodie and pajamas from Dongju. Youngjo would need to buy them clothes. 

Assuming they wanted to _stay._

He hoped they did.

Youngjo turned to look at Seoho, who was fixated on the label on one of the bars of soap. "Do you guys need any more food? Or would you like to see your rooms?" 

At the mention of rooms, Seoho's attention snapped to him, much like Hwanwoong and Keonhee's. There was a subdued, excited glint in their eyes. 

Youngjo's heart twisted, hit with the realization that they hadn't had walls to live in for a time now, and that they'd grown used to sleeping on the soft give of damp grass and weak branches. 

What must that have been like? To see only the woods for miles, timber and grass along all that the eye could see; perhaps the sight of soft moss and flower patches were most alluring under the eyes of Luna and her shining disciples. 

It felt almost unfair, all of a sudden, that Youngjo had ever thought so ill of them. 

And here, Youngjo's sympathy held no sway over how much he simply understood that it was not their fear that made them, but rather they followed what fear had told them they could make of themselves. 

Not quite waiting for their response, he began to walk out of the bathroom, waving his hand amicably and inviting them all to follow him. 

The easy footfalls behind him calmed his flinching heart.

"Here," Youngjo said, opening a heavy wooden door and revealing the room where the other coven would stay. 

There were elaborate, minute details biting art along the walls and ornate craftsmanship on the small spread of furniture. A sparse, warm lighting glowed along dark walls, bouncing off of golden trimmings on the corners. It glanced off of the duvet and the drawers and closets, stopping shy of the off-set door. It would be hard to see, but to them it was just the familiar night. 

"The entire room is yours, feel free to use it however you like. We thought you'd like one room first, but if you want individual rooms…?" Youngjo proposed quietly, eyes skirting over the forms of the triad. 

They were smiling, something childish in their mature features that made a sense of endearment cling to Youngjo. 

"Thank you," Hwanwoong muttered thickly, and Youngjo's expression morphed into shock when he saw Hwanwoong's eyes shine in the orange light.

"You're welcome," Youngjo said, "I hope you like it."

•────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅────•

Hwanwoong didn't know what to do, left to observe the room in awed silence. 

Neither did Keonhee nor Seoho, given how they all held their hands uncertainly to their chests after the door had gently shut behind them and Youngjo's coven walked away.

A room. Not just a hollow tree trunk or the open clearings with bare fires lit across them. Four walls, a single entrance and exit, framed with tender, brittle glass that blocked out light. Air that filled their lungs and a floor under their feet.

Hwanwoong meekly called out to Seoho who turned and tentatively grinned at him. He felt his heart beat, thudding against his own chest. 

And then Hwanwoong let out a single, unbelieving laugh and bounded into the older vampire, wrapping his arms tightly around Seoho's midsection as Keonhee let out a pleased exclamation in synchrony.

Like this, they unraveled, coils unwinding and dropping into useless sheets below their feet. The moon seemed to drop into the sun, vanishing in a breath as warmth surged through them in a craze. Carefully constructed caution was obstructed, giving way to gentle relief and the exhaustion of hopefulness. Hwanwoong hugged Seoho securely, a smile across his face as Keonhee joined and giggled and twirled them around.

They released each other — eyes bright and twinkling in the warm lights — and let themselves laugh and crumple to the floor. Hwanwoong curled into Seoho’s warmth as Keonhee laid his head over their legs. One hand wrapped around Hwanwoong's injured shoulder and another pulled out a ring.

Keonhee looked at the overhead light through the circle of his ring, twirling it in his fingers as Seoho carded motions through his softened, dark hair. 

"Are we really planning on staying?" Hwanwoong hummed thoughtfully. The question was heavy. None of them paid it any more attention beyond answering. 

"They're nice," was Keonhee's answer. 

Hwanwoong sighed. They knew it was exactly that reason that was the cause for turmoil. He further burrowed into Seoho's budding warmth, uncaring of the bed at their feet. 

"Youngjo was pretty irritated when we insinuated otherwise in their stead," Seoho said. "And they offered. We accepted. We'll see. We might… click, or something."

Hwanwoong chuckled at that, incredulous and amused as he lightly hit Seoho. 

Still, affection bloomed slowly in his eyes, the room melting into a buzzing nothingness as he fell into the easy routine with his coven.

They gave each other a final inspection wordlessly, checking Hwanwoong's bandages and rummaging around for a kit in the room. Hwanwoong crawled over to Seoho and looked closely into his features, Seoho letting him. When he'd found what he was looking for, Hwanwoong nodded to himself and took the ring from in between Keonhee's fingers. Keonhee raised his brows but smiled and let Hwanwoong slip it on.

It went quiet soon after, a blank and easy sense of peacefulness settling over them in an ambient sheen. 

To them, peace was taken. For them, it was something made, carved by their hands and talons and forced to surrender. Peace was never _easy_ , not when the monsters behind them chased so eagerly. Peace was not given, either, because Life herself had decided that War would live on her lands. 

But peace could be made. It needed the three of them, together, though just two could lay the foundations. Yet still, three of them made peace that felt open; that felt _right_. They shaped their world into air that felt like the sea when they could still walk along the sandy beaches. 

Peace could be grabbed from in between the spaces that make up War, or from the vestiges of those moments in bloodshed and bombs. And they knew how to do that.

Hwanwoong could press his fingers into Seoho's skin and make peace blossom, crashing through them in waves as he settled and fell asleep, hair falling over his eyes and blocking out the threatening pain of the light that tried to touch him. Seoho could hum a sound that was rid of unease and discomfort, letting only gentle thrums twine through their breaths as he sang soft whispers of words and songs that the mind was apt to forget. Keonhee could join him, a lilting tone that was unsure and yet confident all the same, learned in the art of a history that Seoho never spoke of yet always remembered, and he could smile and watch as Hwanwoong let exhaustion pull him below. 

Seoho watched over them as he always did, waiting for the stillness that Hwanwoong had only recently learnt and for Keonhee's calm expression. Then he would watch the night turn into morning and close his eyes, letting the weak flames of the sun glare at him and mock him before he mocked it in return. The slivers of yellow rays hit thin curtains and dark glass. Only the most persistent skirted off into weak auras around the corners of the room, creating a halo around them that he knew would never be able to touch them.

And then he slept, fearless in the shadow of the center of the room. Helios could chase all he wanted, he could try and upturn their peace, but they would make it again and again. It was Selene that had held them when Helios had cursed their flesh. It was Helios that had tainted them with his jealousy which turned his own sister against him.

As he let himself sleep surrounded by sunlight, Seoho felt content in the knowledge that he could deride a god that jeered at him for something that was more human than the god could ever comprehend. 

•────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅────•

Youngjo didn't say anything when Geonhak asked him whether or not he'd heard the presence of the other coven in the house throughout the night. He was unwavering as Dongju asked question after question, the younger vampire uneasy because of the fact that they couldn't seem to quite remember that the other three were even there if not for their unwavering anxiety. 

Youngjo believed enough of them — even when he couldn’t hear Seoho's footfalls or feel Keonhee's voice in the air — to know they wouldn't hurt his coven.

Vampires were not patient, but neither were they dishonest. 

Youngjo settled into his room, staring at the ceiling and letting his mind run amok. 

He still had questions forming riptides through his thoughts. How long had it been since they'd stepped foot in his forests, pressing on grass that he'd never noticed were trampled; who was it that gave chase to Hwanwoong and his coven, shooting a gun into the air which he hadn't heard; where were they from; who _were_ they?

Dongju knocked on his door and opened it a moment later, walking over to Youngjo's bed and laying himself there without preamble. 

Youngjo gave a curious glance but let the fledgling place himself into a hug, resting his head on Dongju's.

"I hope they stay," Dongju mumbled into Youngjo's shirt. 

Youngjo didn't need to ask why for Dongju to explain. "It's weird but when I saw them, I suddenly felt like I was lonely. Even though I know I'm not."

It was something that happened, Youngjo had learnt, that fledglings always wanted companionship. He had never noticed it in himself at the time but it had been there, in the way that he had followed around his sibling and sought out his family's companionship. Now, he thought it was the moon trying to rectify its loneliness, so close to life and yet stuck in blackness. 

The moon always shared what she could to her cursed children, and Dongju was moon-kissed, after all. 

Youngjo hugged him tighter and made a pensive sound, breathing deeply to calm both of them. 

"We all want to help them," he said softly, "And they see that. But we're new and that scares them. But I'm sure that if we just keep up our efforts, they'll open up. Covens of three are prone to expanding, you know."

Dongju tossed the idea over in his head, likely coming to a satisfactory conclusion if his long hum was anything to go by. 

"We should introduce ourselves tomorrow," Dongju added, before turning over to one side and closing his eyes to sleep. He moved himself out of the hug he had initiated, taking the blankets with him. 

Youngjo smiled, fond and amused. Dongju never minced his words.

"Yeah, of course."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so that story teaser, huh,,,, also, hope you enjoyed it ! comments and kudos are much appreciated!


	5. five.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, this work is unbeta-ed ! i hope you enjoy this chapter !

Geonhak woke up to the sound of the main door opening and to the sunlight battering down in an afternoon ray. The thud wasn't gentle, nor was the brightness, and most definitely not the bile that threatened to rise up his throat as he remembered that Youngjo always woke him up before leaving the house and Dongju slept in most days. 

He shot up from his bed and out, stalling by the door of the living room to watch carefully for who might enter.

He saw Seoho and Keonhee carrying two rabbits each and Hwanwoong with his own pair of hares. 

The animals were in weaved baskets of leaves, blood collecting and beading along the lattices before sluggishly threatening to fall onto the stained floor. 

Frankly, Geonhak didn't know what to do, sleep fog notwithstanding.

"Good morning," he greeted roughly at the triad, who was staring at him wide-eyed and reluctant. They looked like deer in headlights, and Geonhak found that truly ironic.

The three disjointedly greeted him back. Geonhak nodded and went to get Youngjo, dumbfounded.

As he walked through the hall, he flipped the sight over and around in his head. 

The last of them he had seen, they were standing anxiously in front of their room, exhausted anticipation alight in jaded eyes. The first he had ever known of them was the sight of blood and eyes burning red. 

He still remembered how he had heard the crunch of leaves and an aborted call, the sound of choking on air and the rushing of footsteps. He was the one who had grabbed Dongju and barreled into Youngjo, sending the older into a clumsy sprawl as they met eyes with the foreign coven. 

He remembered the vines crawling in his throat when glowing eyes had met his and growls had pierced the air. And now those same eyes had widened at the sight of him and snarling lips had puffed suddenly in surprise. 

He knocked thrice on Youngjo's door.

Impatiently, he immediately followed it with three louder thuds. He shook his leg and arms, craning his neck left and right, feeling unnerved. 

The door opened, Youngjo peering in through the crack with his hair a mess and Dongju looking much the same sitting on the bed.

"What happened?" Youngjo asked, voice thick with sleep. He rubbed his eyes and focused more on Geonhak.

"They went out and hunted. They just came back."

Youngjo snapped awake at Geonhak's declaration and Dongju in the back began to inch out of bed. 

Seoho and Hwanwoong were laying the rabbits and hares across a spread of finely threaded leaves, forming practically a fabric as they gingerly set it down on the table after clearing its contents of condiments and cutlery. Keonhee on the other hand was the one they had run into as they walked towards the dining room, a clear expression of embarrassment on his face.

"We thought you might have appreciated some game," Keonhee said, red at the ears as he turned and began helping Hwanwoong and Seoho. The latter two turned to Youngjo and his entering coven, bashfulness quickly forming in their expressions. 

"Sorry," was Hwanwoong's quick apology. "We didn't really think it through."

Youngjo blinked and stuttered out, "That's… okay," while taking out a cooler from the cabinets and offering it to them. Keonhee took it and placed the — skinned, now — meat inside. Youngjo was still looking incredulously at the sight.

"Where did… the rest of it go?"

Seoho pointed outside, to where Geonhak could smell the general direction of the pelts. 

"We haven't been in a house for a while, so we aren't very, uh. Give us a second to adjust?" Seoho said, fumbling with his words. 

Youngjo gave a mild smile and an unsure gesture of support. Geonhak took a step behind Youngjo. Dongju walked up beside Youngjo, linking his elbows with the older vampire and — pouted.

"Can we introduce ourselves to each other? We still don't even actually know each other's names."

Geonhak forgot that Dongju had always been  _ brutally _ honest. Especially if you came between the fledgling and his sleep. The spark of fear in Geonhak's chest hissed as it met with a feeling of disbelieving bemusement. "What he means," Geonhak coughed out, "Is that we should probably introduce ourselves."

•────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅────•

They found themselves sitting around the table, the weaved baskets and sheets of leaves set outside to dry after rinsing. Dongju was absently tapping on the case of the concealed phone in his lap, far more anxious now that he was reminded again of  _ who _ he was talking to.

"Have you eaten?" he asked, and their glances at the cooler answered for him. "Ah. Thank you for bringing some here…. But we don't really hunt much. We usually go out to buy what we need."

Still nobody said anything, letting themselves steep in an awkward atmosphere. It stretched on, interspersed with the sound of fiddling.

Dongju took a breath in. "I'll go ahead and start. I'm Son Dongju. I'm from a Pureblood family and I… look 20. It's nice to meet you."

Keonhee had brightened as soon as Dongju began speaking, smiling and nodding his gratitude at Dongju. Dongju felt some of the tension release from his chest. Keonhee's smile was warm, tender and soft and friendly. It put Dongju at ease; was kind and generous to his rocketing heartbeat. 

"My name's Lee Keonhee, half-blood, I pass as 22," Keonhee introduced brightly. He offered Dongju a bow, suddenly flustering the younger and making him bow as well, low and nearly hitting his head on the table. He felt Youngjo reflexively pull him back, instinctually trying to stop him from doing something that might hurt himself. 

Youngjo bowed as well before greeting them, kind and even-toned as he told them his name and the age he portrayed himself as.

It was something that most had decided on. Agelessness made numbers rise in your mind but keep stagnant in your skin. It was easier to choose a number, to start counting around it and hoping nobody asked questions if you went out. (It was lonely.)

Dongju listened and watched intently as Youngjo told the table his blood status. Purebloods were one of the less common statuses, superseded only by the Eleans. Dongju and Youngjo often found humor in the fact that they outnumbered the hybrids in their coven, to the distress of Geonhak who grew irritated and had even taken to citing statistics.

(Youngjo had never waved his power over anyone he held close to himself. Neither had he decided to teach Dongju how.

Not unless they were monsters of men. Not unless they aimed to tear and wanted to claw Youngjo down with them. At those moments Youngjo swallowed down the sun and grabbed the moon, holding it in his hands and hissing venom and burning hellfire.)

Geonhak's own voice was low and cautious as he told his own name and age and began stuttering over his status, until Youngjo patted his shoulder and gave Seoho and his coven an imploring stare. 

"Geonhak is technically a hybrid, but he was sired by a half-blood," Youngjo explained, one hand on Geonhak's shoulder and the other gesturing vaguely. Keonhee and Seoho both hummed thoughtfully while Hwanwoong's head tilted to one side in fascination. None of them pried.

Seoho glanced at Hwanwoong, who had once more settled into his seat and looked visibly lacking in enthusiasm for his own looming introduction. The eldest sighed under his breath and resigned himself to stating his name and age. "I changed my name from Lee Gunmin to Lee Seoho," Seoho said, garnering some raised eyebrows, "And I guess I'd say I look around 24 as well. I'm a Pureblood too. Nice to meet you."

He gave a small bow of his head before quickly turning to nudge Hwanwoong. The boy lurched slightly forward from the push and then receded into a meek shape. Dongju thought briefly about the irregularity of it, having three Purebloods among six people, and yet he couldn't vocalize the thought, caught up in the aura of anticipation for Hwanwoong's introduction. Or perhaps the possible lack of it.

"Hi," Hwanwoong tried, coughing to clear his throat. Dongju straightened his back and looked on, hoping he looked approachable. He saw Geonhak and Youngjo do the same in their own ways, the former making himself look smaller instead and the latter smiling slightly. 

"Yeo Hwanwoong, twenty… one? And Pureblood as well. It's good to know you, I hope we get along," were the muttered words. They could see the vague red flush rise in Hwanwoong's skin, barely coloring his skin in bloodlessness yet enough to notice. He was physically fanning himself and Seoho and Keonhee were offering words of comfort and slight teasing. 

Dongju felt himself soften at the sound of Keonhee snickering and lowly whispering about how Hwanwoong was usually noisy. Hwanwoong glared at Keonhee, but even Dongju could see that there was no heat behind it. 

"It's nice to meet you all. If I could ask, though, what were the meanings of the names Dongju mentioned yesterday?"

Dongju turned to Seoho, startling. He had forgotten about his mentioning of those names.

"Ah, those are like code names," Youngjo disclosed comfortably. Geonhak and Dongju looked at their eldest with incredulity. Youngjo had always been too kind, accommodating of everyone he could accommodate. Youngjo barely looked apologetic when he looked at them.

"If ever we come across some less desirable groups of vampires, or if we don't want to be known, we just use the names."

It registered at that moment for Dongju why Youngjo had said it so easily. 

"And we like you. We want to help you, so you don't need to use those names."

Dongju heard the paused chuckle from Hwanwoong and Seoho. It hurt — suddenly, inexplicably, almost irrationally — to feel the slivers of doubt in them. He looked at them, studying their expressions, his own features contorted, wounded in their stead. 

"We don't have any fancy names but you can feel free to call me hyung," Keonhee offered Dongju swiftly, eliciting surprise across Youngjo's coven. Still, Dongju accepted modestly, bowing his head once more. 

Hwanwoong laid his head on Keonhee's shoulder and whispered something inaudible. It made Keonhee break out into a laugh, making Hwanwoong look pleased with himself.

Seoho laughed as well, despite none of the other three hearing what was said. They didn't ask, still feeling awkward and allowing them their own comfort and space. 

"Do you have any injuries you need help with?" Youngjo asked after Keonhee had calmed down from his amusement and Hwanwoong had settled into a hug. 

Seooho shook his head easily, telling him, "Not really. Thanks for the medical kit."

"Any sort of injury that needs attention, it's alright," Youngjo clarified, insistent and worried at the initial reply from Seoho. 

"It's okay, really!" Keonhee said. "We already fixed up Woongie's" — Hwanwoong gave an indignant interjection at the nickname and shoved Keonhee — "Injuries, and those are all we need to pay attention to. Our scratches have pretty much healed."

The mention of the injury brought Dongju's eyes to Hwanwoong's shoulder, studying the tight binding and the clean fabric. "Does it still hurt?" Dongju asked.

Hwanwoong turned to him, some surprise crossing his features. "Not really. I'm… used to some pain," Hwanwoong answered. Dongju winced at the reply, and Hwanwoong's mirrored wince said clear as day he'd seen the reaction.

"Is there anything we should do around the house?" Seoho asked next, adding, "I could probably help prepare food with what you have."

Geonhak looked curiously at Seoho. "You know how to cook?"

Seoho shrugged — Youngjo still couldn't understand how  _ different _ he was, unmenacing yet aloof — but nodded. "I experiment sometimes."

A silence that seemed more thoughtful than anything passed between the two. 

Geonhak bit back a question until finally, he said, "I mean this with no offense, but do you know how to use a kitchen?"

Seoho stared at him, unmoving. Hwanwoong and Keonhee did so as well before they laughed and Hwanwoong covered his face, hitting Seoho. "He's asking a good question," Hwanwoong wheezed out breathlessly. Seoho flustered, lightly rebutting Hwanwoong with a few well-placed hits. Hwanwoong kept urging him to answer, trying to swat away the shoves with a hand.

Dongju smiled suddenly and felt himself bask in the obvious companionship the three shared, happiness washing over him in waves and sating the phantom loneliness that he felt. He leaned towards Youngjo, who easily slung a shoulder over him and let him settle. He looked at Youngjo, who was fond as well as they both looked on, even Geonhak easing his shoulders and watching the open vulnerability. 

It didn't feel dangerous. 

They couldn't say why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it took a while to update this chapter ! i try to always have some saved up extra chapters just in case something REALLY bad happens and i can't write at all. it took a while longer to finish the one i'm currently working on, so this update got delayed! i hope it's alright, though!   
> anyway, HOW ARE WE DOING AFTER THAT TEASER DROP,,,, keonhee king,,, amazing,,,, show-stopping,, never been done before,,, gosh what a VISUAL ,,, oneus concept kings huh  
> please leave some comments or kudos if you enjoyed reading this ! thank you for your support !


	6. six.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all errors in writing such as punctuation and spelling are mine!

The moon began peeking over the horizon, casting down lines of silver on Keonhee's skin. He glanced at the stream of moonlight on his palm before turning to Hwanwoong. Hwanwoong was staring at the moon herself, eyes blank but open. Light filtered into them, reflected off of rock and ash and grey as they colored the air. Still, snakes of gold wove their way through the bleak and bled into Hwanwoong, a straining string of sunlight.

"Did you have any nightmares?" Keonhee asked, hushing his voice. Hwanwoong shook his head. Keonhee let out a relieved sigh. 

"I think it was the walls," Hwanwoong muttered. "It was gentler." 

Keonhee wrapped his arms around Hwanwoong, leaning on the other's head and clutching him close to his chest. "We should probably warn them about that. You were tired and your body needed lots of rest yesterday. Today might not be as good," Keonhee said. He felt Hwanwoong tense in his hold.

It wasn't uncommon. Nightmares were more often than not the companions in sleep of cursed creatures. Blood continued to bleed even after death, seeping into dreams and coating it crimson. Terror was to be expected. You didn't retain your sanity when humanity was stripped out of your very soul. Neither did you live most centuries without history sinking its claws into you and planting its sadness and anger. 

Still, he understood why Hwanwoong froze, and Keonhee ran a hand up and down his friend's arm to calm him. "I'll handle the questions," he said softly. Hwanwoong relaxed ever so slightly, breathing in deep, shaking breaths. 

Hwanwoong's voice was weak and flat when he asked, "Do you think Seoho hyung is finished studying the kitchen?" 

Keonhee gave him a nod, the motion making Hwanwoong's head move up and down as well. 

Keonhee made to stand but was stopped by Youngjo's footsteps drawing near them. He turned to the doorway, scooting from his position on the porch to wait. A moment later, Youngjo opened the door, his eyes finding them quickly.

"Hey, Seoho's done looking at everything. He said to come get you."

Hwanwoong and Keonhee stood up, Keonhee holding Hwanwoong's hand loosely in comfort. They thanked Youngjo and watched as he smiled and headed back into the house, following a beat after. Keonhee swung their hands as they walked and Hwanwoong looked at him appreciatively. He only stuck out a tongue in reply.

Seoho spun around to them when they entered the room, pointing a spatula at them. 

" _ Induction stoves! _ " he interjected happily, pointing at the flat, reddening mat on top of the counter. Hwanwoong walked over to look, detaching himself from Keonhee and holding his hand over one of the circles and humming in interest when he felt the heat. Keonhee on the other hand chuckled at the sight, walking over to Youngjo. 

"The last stove they used was still gas," Keonhee said. Youngjo nodded, acknowledging. 

"How long has it been since you've really stayed put?" Youngjo asked, glancing at Keonhee. The other didn't seem to be off-put by the question. 

"As in settling? Maybe thirty years, give or take. But we've been in a few houses, if that's what you mean," was the reply. 

Thirty years was a long time. Not to live, not for them — but to be lost. Youngjo thought of Rogues, the stories of vampires who lost their minds when thoughts ran into one another boiling in the emptiness of loneliness and darkness. It took less than thirty years to turn vampires into Rogues, like only seconds of raging fire was enough to burn and turn into ash. He remembered how they went mad with their curse, famished and angry and raging against their bleeding heart. He'd read about their hunger, insatiable after being abandoned by the very creature that turned them, brought them into the moon's shadow. He remembered seeing images of their deaths, lost to time and to themselves. 

He was glad that Keonhee's coven had been together for those thirty years, lost only in step and still at home. He felt another layer of his apprehension fall involuntarily, heart softening. 

"Well we hope you can find a home here," Youngjo said, sincerity falling from his lips. It took Keonhee by surprise.

"We're practically strangers," Keonhee said swiftly in reply, reflexive almost. 

Youngjo knew that. He knew it and he'd feared them, unease settling in his gut every time he thought about the moment he'd seen them, snarling and feral. And yet he could easily tell they were  _ afraid _ . He couldn't quell the anxiety that flared every time he thought of how he hadn't seen Hwanwoong rise; hadn't been ready for the speed that tore through the air. He still felt hackles rise at the echoes of Seoho's voice, bordering on infernal. But that was instinct. That was their humanity, afraid.

They wanted safety for their coven as much as he did for his own. 

A member of your coven bleeding into the forest floor struck lightning into your heart, froze it and turned it volatile. It turned kindness into violence, unreasonable when warmth was being stolen so irredeemably. Youngjo thought of what he would have done if Geonhak or Dongju had been shot in the forest, throwing them off of their feet and leaving Youngjo to feel the world give way under him, crashing into an eclipse as the moon stopped shining. He thought of all the light he would steal from the world, all the blood he might spill. He remembered their smiles and their tears. He remembered the kindness and anger he'd learnt from them and their stories. 

To steal those from him? He could be as dangerous as them.

Youngjo cleared his stormy expression and smiled at Keonhee tightly. "We don't have to be."

Keonhee looked at him, staring with an unreadable expression. 

And then he grinned, holding out his hand. "I like you." 

Youngjo chuckled and raised his brows, replying with a relaxed, "You too."

Keonhee was easy to fall into, it seemed. It was no wonder then that Youngjo had been so comforted by him even from the beginning. Youngjo prided himself on knowing people, after all his years. 

"Keonhee!" Seoho called, a childish excitement in his tone that flooded the room in a shocking tremor. 

He had completely stripped himself of the previous impression of intimidation. Not even his age shone through, concealed in thick layers of genuine positivity and elation. 

"We're cooking the hares first," Geonhak supplied helpfully, stuck staring at Seoho. Youngjo could easily see the befuddlement on his friend's face, Geonhak's first impression of Seoho completely subverted in the face of the now cheerful, eclectic vampire in front of them.

"They don't have many of the spices we used to have," Seoho said, slightly disappointed, an ancient nostalgia swirling for a second in his irises. "But!" he interrupted himself, lighting up once more, "They have a bunch of food and equipment we can  _ use _ !"

Keonhee scoffed lightly. "You could have used them back when you were at mine. You just never cooked," Keonhee said, joking in his scolding. 

"I don't cook," Hwanwoong piped up from beside Dongju, where the youngest vampire was patiently showing Hwanwoong his phone. Hwanwoong was familiar with them but cautious still as he curiously clicked along the apps and swiped among Dongju's plethora of games. 

"And whose problem is that?" Keonhee said, smiling and teasing. Hwanwoong was too taken with the video Dongju was showing him to retort aside from a waving gesture.

It reminded Youngjo once more, "I wanted to ask if you guys would like to go shopping. Since it seems like you're alright with staying?"

Again at the mention of a prolonged stay, the air turned stale and Hwanwoong looked up from the phone, putting it down guiltily. 

Youngjo quickly rectified his tone, stating that, "It isn't for any reason in particular! I just thought maybe you would appreciate having your own things if you'll stay."

Seoho slid next to Hwanwoong, apron and all, and muttered something in the unknown tongue they could somehow speak — one that Youngjo still couldn't place. Youngjo saw Hwanwoong's hands fiddle, saw the amulet that was settled around his neck; and he thought again about what it was that was in the metal, drawing black on Hwanwoong's blinding light. He would see the shadows and the beams only if he looked hard enough, and the amulet still seemed just a haze of misting colors. 

He decided they would tell him at their own time. 

"We wouldn't want you to spend money on us. We don't have jobs, or anything like that," Hwanwoong said, after talking to Seoho. Youngjo shook his head.

"It's no problem. We have more than enough to go around," he answered appealingly. A look of comprehension dawned on Hwanwoong. 

"Ah."

"Do we have a budget?" Keonhee said teasingly from behind Youngjo, and Youngjo once more had a burst of amusement. Keonhee was funny. 

"Not really," Youngjo answered nonetheless. 

Keonhee for a moment looked taken aback before smiling once more. "Thanks, hyung."

"We should probably make a list," Hwanwoong commented and Keonhee hummed his agreement. Seoho nodded as well, settling an arm around Hwanwoong's and writing in the air. 

"Clothes, some shoes, maybe some phones, toiletries," Keonhee rattled off, and Youngjo realized belatedly that Seoho was pointing the same words into the ceiling. Hwanwoong was watching Seoho and muttering silently, and Youngjo had an inkling that he was in sync with the other two of his coven. 

"You can honestly just buy whatever you want when we go to the shops," Youngjo said. 

"Youngjo hyung could buy a mall, probably," Dongju added off-handedly, tapping his phone without looking at it. Youngjo squinted.

"Don't push it, Dongdoongie."

Dongju's expression morphed from bashful to irritated and then blank in a flash, and Youngjo smiled as Dongju appeared beside him just to shove him and then sit back down. 

Geonhak finished cooking the meat, bringing it over to the table and then putting the dishes in the sink. He sat down and looked around the room. 

"Dinner's ready," Geonhak announced, and Youngjo could see a small smile hiding in his lips.

•────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅────•

Dinner was a kind affair, all of them seating themselves and then eating their meals, Youngjo, Dongju, and Geonhak offering drinks and other food which the other coven politely rejected.

"Do you eat anything other than meat?" Geonhak asked as he ate a slice of bread.

Keonhee swallowed his mouthful of hare and then answered. "We don't usually have the chance to, but we used to. It isn't as fulfilling, much like with you, but we did."

"We should buy candies," Dongju suggested. Keonhee perked up at the mention of sweets. 

Youngjo guessed they might buy more than he usually went out to buy, but he decided that was alright. 

"Woongie, you might also be able to buy some pens and a journal," said Seoho, a tone of nuance in his words. 

Youngjo had intended to only spare a passing glance at Hwanwoong, checking his reaction. And yet he found himself unable to look away. 

Hwanwoong had stopped eating, setting down his chopsticks on his plate and just  _ thinking _ for a moment.

And then he lit up, eyes brightening and clearing, a smile coloring his face. Once more, he was shining in golden light, forming a halo around him and momentarily shrouding even the shadows that swept outwards from the amulet. Once more, he was the opposite of everything that he was, scalding the retreating form of Death. 

Hwanwoong turned to Seoho and then threw his good arm around the older, huffing out a laugh of glee. 

"I might!" he reiterated as he pushed away, meeting gazes with Seoho who was smiling almost as widely. 

"I could finally-!" Hwanwoong stopped himself and shook his head mirthfully. Again he embraced Seoho, tightening his hold with his arm and burrowing his face affectionately into Seoho's chest. 

Youngjo looked briefly at Keonhee, but the latter was occupied, smiling fondly at his coven mates.

"A journal!" Hwanwoong squealed, muffling his voice into the fabric of Seoho's borrowed clothes. Seoho laughed, running his hand through Hwanwoong's hair and watching as Keonhee walked over to poke Hwanwoong's cheeks. 

"So that's a yes on the shopping?" Youngjo asked, smiling as well and attempting lighthearted teasing.

He was unprepared for what followed; awestruck by the bright, teary-eyed grin that Hwanwoong answered with, young and eager and — Youngjo knew —  _ happy _ .

Despite never knowing him, it was a sight for sore eyes. 

Youngjo was a fool, but now he  _ needed _ them to stay. 

(Maybe it wasn't just Dongju who was lonely.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! I hope you enjoyed reading, please leave some feedback if so! I hope you're all well. I'm personally still losing it over tbontb


	7. seven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all errors present in writing such as grammar, punctuation, and spelling are mine!

If Dongju had learnt one unfortunate effect of vampirism over the years, it was that you were awake when the rest of the world was asleep. They woke at the hours bordering on the cusp of sunset and evening. They rose from their beds only when most would eagerly be watching their clock tick down. They slept when the first cracks of sunlight escaped from the sky, the sight of the sun making them tired and weak, easily lulled into sleepiness.

Another example, he mused, was that you were only ready to go out when most stores were preparing to close to some extent. He had been tempted to invite them to go out to the town right after dinner until Geonhak had reminded him that they would get there at a little past 8 in the evening, perhaps later with the other three being less familiar with the woods. 

Instead, after dinner, they cleaned their dishes and sat in the living room, Youngjo's coven taking their seats at the couch and Seoho's tentatively sitting down on the carpet. Keonhee was more comfortable, leaning up the side of the armrest on Dongju's side.

"We should probably write the list for the necessities," Dongju said. He was slightly peevish when he followed it with, "Last time we went out we forgot  _ water. _ And we've run out of bleach and the broom's all broken up."

Youngjo laughed and gave his assent, excusing himself to grab a sheet of paper and a pen, leaving the room. In the silence, Dongju turned to check something on his phone once more while Keonhee started looking through the shelves and cabinets. 

Seoho looked at Geonhak when the door closed, somewhat anxious. 

"Hey, Geonhak," he called, to which Geonhak turned to him slowly. 

"Sorry about the scare yesterday," Seoho said, lips forming a pout though he tried to smile. "I was just really worried about Hwanwoong. I'm not usually that, uh, intense."

Hwanwoong glanced up at the mention of his name and nodded. "I don't get badly hurt often," Hwanwoong explained, "And Seoho-hyung has taken care of me since I was a fledgling, so he has a lot of protective tendencies over me."

Geonhak mulled the admission over in his head and then said, "It's alright, I get that. I hope you don’t have to do anything like that soon." 

Seoho let out a relieved breath and smiled in gratitude, subsequently letting Hwanwoong settle into his lap and then petting the shorter vampire's head. 

Geonhak looked at them.

It was easy to understand. With all of the changes that Seoho was painting onto his skin, stripping off the layers of danger that Geonhak had thought he’d seen, it was easier to see that Geonhak could bear to let himself feel safe enough to breathe. He still couldn’t push down the alarm every time the other moved, but he saw how Seoho couldn’t settle easily in his presence either. Fear was instinct, and so was protectiveness. (Geonhak knew how being out of place felt, and it was just odd that he felt that way when he already had a place here. Maybe it was because Seoho, Hwanwoong, and Keonhee had their space already — written in every touch of their fingers clasping together and their smiles.) Geonhak thought that maybe there were more similarities between them that he’d not admit. 

From beside Geonhak’s pensive form, Dongju’s attention was still piqued at the admission of Hwanwoong's youth. (Seeking companionship, still, even when he knew he had enough, because the moon cried every night.) 

The fledgling scooted close to where Hwanwoong was. “How old are you?” Dongju asked, eyes trained probingly on Hwanwoong. Hwanwoong matched his gaze with one of relaxed simplicity, though there was an edge of mischief skirting at the edges of his lips. 

“Past a century and a half.” 

Dongju stopped his fidgeting rocking for a moment. Nearly three times his own age. Older than Geonhak, even, though their physical statures clearly denoted the opposite.

"You?" Hwanwoong hummed interestedly, face slightly blank but focused. Dongju only just noticed that his eyes seemed to droop downwards. 

Dongju answered, "Just forty seven."

Hwanwoong made a surprised sound, though his eyes stayed lidded. "You matured pretty fast then, physically?"

Dongju shrugged and nodded. "A little, yeah."

Dongju next heard Keonhee's unsubtle attempts at calling his attention, where the other stage-whispered to inquire about Geonhak's age. Keonhee traded his own age of 133 as he waited for Dongju to call Geonhak, but it was ultimately fruitless with the arrival of Youngjo with a notebook and three pens. 

"Sorry it took a little long," Youngjo said, setting down the materials on the table in front of the couch. He looked at the seating around the room. "You can sit on the single chairs, you know," Youngjo said, a friendly exasperation in his eyes. He continued, "I thought you'd at least try sitting down during the time I was out."

Keonhee took a seat at the same time he asked, "How old are you, Youngjo hyung? I'm a hundred and thirty three." 

Youngjo was ever so slightly taken aback but still answered, "A hundred and fifty five. Why?"

Keonhee shrugged. "It came up. Dongju's only forty seven?"

Youngjo shared a swift glance with Dongju as he nodded. When Dongju pursed his lips upwards to one side, Youngjo turned back to Keonhee. "Yeah, I've been taking care of him for a while now."

A contemplative sound formed easily in Keonhee's throat. "Cool."

"We should write that list," Hwanwoong muttered from where he was seemingly falling asleep against Seoho. He was even curling into the space, balling himself into Seoho's accommodating embrace.

However, slightly worried at the sudden shift in demeanor, Youngjo drew nearer, Seoho instinctually pulling away before easing his hold and instead raising a brow at Youngjo and widening his eyes. 

"Did his wounds start hurting? He just woke up, didn't he?"

Seoho waved his hands around, making a sound of understanding at the concern. He shook his head, saying, "He's alright. Woongie just stays sleepy for a while."

From within Seoho's arms, Hwanwoong nodded and made a slurred assent. Youngjo felt a smile form on his lips unbidden, finding himself suddenly charmed by the sight in front of him.

"Oh, alright then. I hope he rests well. Geonhak, Dongju, and I will fix the list for the house necessities. If you have anything you want to make sure you don't forget, you can tell us too." 

Keonhee had gone to rest with his coven, standing from his seat and then settling his head on Seoho's lap, beside Hwanwoong's thigh. They heard singing and hushed words, intelligible and not. Keonhee would sometimes look over in Youngjo's direction after something Seoho mumbled, but nobody else could hear what was being said. 

In the meanwhile, Dongju wrote down the materials, forcibly taking the pen from Youngjo and looking at him with a pinched expression before writing. He scanned the room, looking for anything broken or damaged, and then started looking through his phone to check his notes. 

Dongju had finished the first half of the list when Keonhee sat up and suggested to buy, "Some candles and some science books.” Dongju wrote them down dutifully onto the side of the notepad, scribbling Keonhee’s name next to them. Youngjo gave an interested look at the items, offering the study on the other end of the house if they’d want to see the books there. Seoho agreed eagerly, a wonder sparking in his eyes. 

“Oh, and also write down those for us three. The combs, shampoo, soap, toothbrushes, towels, clothes,” Seoho added, “In case we forget.” 

Youngjo reminded them to buy their own phones and maybe even phone cases and headphones. “Customizing is fun,” he’d told them. 

The scratching of the pen on paper echoed off of the walls. Until Hwanwoong started to make a small, almost purring sound from where he was sitting with Seoho, making the room turn to him. He was sound asleep, peaceful and relaxed. His shoulder was slightly stiff in its bindings, but he wasn’t fidgeting. His hands were grabbing onto Seoho’s clothes, which the older was gently trying to pry off. When Seoho noticed the gazes focused on them, another odd expression crossed his features. 

“Is he purring?” Geonhak asked, voice intoned in a thoroughly impressed and also confused lilt. Keonhee propped himself up on an arm and nodded, smiling. 

"It's something he learnt a while back," Keonhee said. Then, he pouted. "He does it more often with Seoho hyung than me."

"You kiss his cheeks a lot," Seoho retorted, affronted almost. Youngjo laughed at the affectionate jealousy, watching a wisp of it wind between the two. 

Keonhee opened his mouth but then shut it, shrugging and conceding expressively. "Guess so," he added as an afterthought. 

"Why does he purr?" Dongju asked next.

"Actually, he said he heard it from cats and kittens, and he thought it was them telling him to sleep. He feels comfier that way," Keonhee said. Then he pursed his lips and looked at Hwanwoong, combing a hand through his own hair.

Youngjo saw the mist drape over Keonhee in a heavy crash; a memory crawling from behind his eyes and coating them in melancholy. He looked at Seoho, who was smiling with an unfocused glaze over his face. 

Youngjo was reminded, often, that they had been found in the forest with tattered clothing and blood on their hands. (They shifted, morphed from something feared into something fearful, but still the fact stood that they growled and clawed under a red moon.) 

He saw it in the way they never stepped away from each other, always in the eye line of one of their coven mates. They took up each other's sides as if they were inseparable — sewn together morbidly by fate — and it was something more than just the desire to feel the warmth of your family.

There was a hint of desperation, an anxiety in being apart, a bone-deep feeling of needing someone there. It was lighter in Keonhee's hands, cradled there of his own volition as he took on the weight of what was swallowing Seoho and Hwanwoong. But it clung to Seoho and Hwanwoong like a child, squabbling at their feet and weighing them down with their convoluted sort of destiny. 

(Youngjo had never had much of an opinion about what he could see that others could not, but with them it was as if he had been blind to never have seen even the mildest of wind breathe their air.)

They took up the night sky though they tried to shy away from it. Perhaps, Youngjo thought, the sun could be crueler than even he’d thought. 

“Are you alright?” Youngjo asked softly, afraid to startle them. 

The effort was futile, Keonhee jumping and his attention snapping to Youngjo. 

“Yeah,” Keonhee answered, coughing his voice free of its thick shaking. Seoho looked at Keonhee and then back to Hwanwoong, patting the smaller figure’s head once more tenderly. 

Dongju watched them and felt his heart collapse into itself, shattering and tearing at his lungs. He felt loneliness again, though now he could feel it trying to make its way through him instead of budding from his chest. They were together, holding each other, fending off the violent loneliness that erupted from their memories and tried to sink its claws into them. 

Geonhak looked away, grabbing Dongju’s hand and clutching it tightly. 

“Sorry,” Keonhee said. “Like I said, we haven’t stayed put for a while.”

The following silence wasn’t quite so awkward — it was just  _ quiet _ . Delicate but not fragile. 

Hwanwoong’s purring died into even breaths, soundless as he opened his eyes and woke up. 

“Hey,” Seoho greeted. 

Hwanwoong rubbed at his eyes, humming. “What’d I miss?” he yawned, stumbling himself out of Seoho’s lap and next to Keonhee. 

Keonhee shrugged, saying, “You were purring,” and then hugging the smaller boy when Hwanwoong’s expression fell after a few seconds. 

“Oh.” Hwanwoong’s voice was soft and hushed. “Sorry.”

Seoho chuckled in response, though it was a purely consoling sound. “Hey, no. You’re doing great,” he said.

Geonhak added, “Whatever the reason is, that’s alright.” 

He continued, looking at Hwanwoong with a purposeful gaze and avoiding the grateful stares from Hwanwoong’s coven, “I get it. If your coven understands, so will we.”

(The promise slipped from Geonhak’s lips, cascading down his words faster than he could stop himself. It wrapped around him in a knot and once more, after decades, his heart was laid out in front of him.

He hoped he could trust them as much as he wanted to.) 

Hwanwoong’s stare was unnerving, eyes deep and dark but  _ alight _ as Geonhak stared back into them. 

And then it was as clear as the afternoon sky and Hwanwoong chuckled. “Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this chapter ! There's a little bit more information about the characters. I also switched around age order, but i promise it doesn't interfere with the relationships! It was just a choice that comes in significant at a later time :) (if you have any questions about the age order in terms of world building, don't be afraid to ask, I'd love to answer!)


	8. eight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! as always, errors here are all mine.  
> warnings for this chapter! there are allusions and descriptions of child neglect, child abuse, and related topics present. please read ahead at your own caution. more info in the end notes!

Geonhak knew loneliness. He saw it in Hwanwoong’s eyes when they darkened into a time that was not now; saw it in all of them — an image of lonesome though perhaps not the feeling. 

And he remembered its shrouding cold, the ice that it planted deep in your skin and the stones it crushed harshly into your lungs. He remembered it like he remembered breathing, sitting just under his nails and itching at his arms. 

It followed him, something that he could so easily feel. But only if he let himself drown in it.

He could look into mirrors and see a looming figure over him, only there to look through him and leave him feeling empty. If he tried, he could convince himself that a time from decades ago was right now, an abyss in his mind ready to spread and taint his memories. 

He remembered her gaze, a mother only in name. He remembered the hundreds of eyes that never cared enough for him, a sight that was clouded by too much hatred for an innocent child. He remembered her sneering, the raised fists and the words that meant to cut him down into pieces that she could throw out. He remembered a room, big enough only to learn what pacing was before he even had memories he knew. He remembered his mother’s screaming, the beration that he never understood when he heard it. 

Still, he recalled those words, the ones that replayed in his nightmares when the moon was too close and the light was too dark. When he stared at candlelights, he would remember them. He had been called a freak, a monster, a mistake. The child of a half-blood and a human. A hybrid. A monster and someone cursed. 

Past a century of living and Geonhak knew now that those names were easy words to throw around. 

But there was a marrying of the human mind and the moon’s soul, and the former was always too much of a heart in a heartless body. Eighteen years of nothing but fear, of barely-there hope, and a human mind cracked under the weight of a void. 

Still, Geonhak learnt hope. He learnt it just like everyone else. 

By feeling it.

He learnt it when a night had brought him to a forest, sobbing his tears into the grass and the weed, feeding it with a sorrow that the earth lamented. He learnt it when someone appeared in front of him, gentle as they sank to meet his eyes, their face unknown from his memory and therefore safer than home. He learnt it when he was whisked away from a mother and he met his father.

He was a child, then, when he was first told by a soft, apologetic voice that there was a curse placed on him. He could let the moon shine down on him or he could walk under the sun.

When the sun meant only darkness, he’d decided that he would rather see the moon and greet her himself.

And he learnt the meaning of contentment.

It was given to him in a way that he thought it couldn’t be, a man with blood on his hands kinder than those who torched the witches of old. It was in the simple things — in running. It was in carving things into wood, in letting the anger from fresh wounds drive him to screaming and crying and chasing, in talking to those who he never quite knew but his father shared firelight with. It was years of the woods, learning how nature weaved its way through everything, regardless of sunlight. 

Then, he _learnt_ that he didn’t need to clutch onto loneliness from Youngjo. 

His father had come, ripped him away from a nightmare and then introduced him to a dream. To Youngjo, a passing Pureblood with too big of a heart.

Youngjo taught him _happiness._ Taught him how to trust.

It was Youngjo that began taking Geonhak's hand when he stared too long into his reflection, wiping away the mirage of a child stuck in a room. Youngjo talked to him, even kinder than his father, less rough and just _gentle_. It was Youngjo that came one day with his father and understood Geonhak's father was leaving. It was Youngjo that let the old vampire move back into the shadows and then showed Geonhak a home. 

Youngjo had smiled, all those years ago, and Geonhak had never stopped since. He grinned and let himself claw out the sadness, refusing the rising water and drying it with the heat of Youngjo's kindness. He stopped feeling lonely and let himself bask in warmth. 

He knew it, knew its rises and falls, its white and black and grey.

But he didn't feel lonely. Not anymore. Not when Youngjo had shown him home.

•────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅────•

Dongju was young, still unsure how what he felt translated into words. It was loneliness but not in the way that he understood the word itself. It was the feeling of being alone, of feeling unseen, but only sometimes. It was sadness. But he was in the companionship of those he held closest to his heart and they would smile at him. 

It was more of a feeling of _wanting_ than having nothing. 

He had never been alone — he had his brother. Dongmyeong was there, stuck by his side ever since he had been born, but both of them felt so small in the expanding walls. There was always something bigger than them, something more important because of how their parents saw the world. 

Purebloods were prideful, a strength carried in their veins. They chose their strength, picked what would be their legend for themselves. For some it would be money, taking over buildings in cities and pasting their old names across the city skylines as they paraded in their concealed selves. For others it was simple prestige, knowing that they were somehow better than whoever they deemed themselves superior over. 

For some, it was patience. They would build homes by themselves, basking in the silence that it brought and the peace under the moon. Maybe it was the arts, flourishing in its study and cultivating it in their long lives; studying words and poems and building collections in libraries that towered over their heads. 

For Dongju’s parents, it was blood. Not to drink nor to spill, but to set ablaze. They found their pride in fighting, in inciting rage from others after months of needling and vicious study. Dongju and Dongmyeong heard hushed talking and raised voices alike, a rage at the petty inconveniences and screaming from strangers. 

He had his brother, to hug, to tease, to laugh with in their room. He had Dongmyeong to cry with at night, scared as they mumbled to one another about what their parents would try to once more instigate. He had his brother to share sorrows and to share their joys between them.

But he wanted more, needed something that Dongmyeong needed just as much. 

He needed _out._ He wanted to leave, to be able to breathe and be happy, to be unafraid of the knocks that rang against their door. 

It was then that Dongju had learned, barely in his second decade, that Kim Youngjo's pride was just _kindness._

It was extending a hand to whoever would take it and holding it to a warm flame, treating the old burns that would shine under its light. It was hearing of children stuck in a shaking home, unsteady in their foundations, and walking fearlessly to warmongers and seething. It was seeing Dongju and Dongmyeong, both of them unable to meet his eyes as he crossed the threshold of the house, and then bending down to meet their gazes.

It was inviting Dongju and Dongmyeong outside. It was talking to their parents, prim and proper and threatening as his own family roamed the halls warningly. It was his voice piercing through the walls, simmering as he listened to unreasonable purists, smiling but learning to frown. 

It was asking Dongju and Dongmyeong if they wanted to stay with him. It was eyes creasing with worry when Dongmyeong shyly shook his head no. Dongju's heart had frozen then, until he realized Dongmyeong's pride was budding in fixing things and making people happy. 

But Dongju knew his twin was never too prideful, and he bid him goodbye and good luck, Youngjo promising they could meet whenever and talk however. 

(Weeks after, he had heard from Dongmyeong already — he had found his own coven, and Dongju laughed because of course he would copy him. They wanted the same things.)

And when Youngjo had introduced Geonhak to him, Dongju had felt that nibbling feeling of wanting just dissipate. Because he had everything he knew he wanted right in front of him. 

(But he still _wanted._ Things he hadn't known he'd wanted began to grab his heart and crush it with necessity.)

And Youngjo and his kindness would give what Dongju's parents would not. 

•────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅────•

Youngjo understood kindness as well as he understood animosity. The towers of shelves and papers lined across his father's walls were open to him as were the woods. 

He was free. But there was still lonesome in that. 

He knew what it was that he wanted to do. He knew that he wanted to be kind, to be patient where others would not be. He asked for what he needed, perhaps multiple times if it was something he wanted instead. His family had let him build a home wherever he wanted, let him set his own terms. They looked gently upon him but let him work himself down to hollow bones. (His family's pride was understanding. Sometimes they understood too well, but were too afraid to stop.)

It was curious, then, that he therefore only had himself to blame for the emptiness of the home. For the ricocheting sounds and the too-wide rooms. He hadn't wanted to feel that loneliness; a sudden revelation that some vampires simply grew to become lonely.

He almost let himself get lost in it.

Until Geonhak's father ran into him on a hunt. He had growled, he had hissed, he bad bared his fangs at the scent of someone who was not himself in his forest. (It was so easy to tell. Because he had only had himself to be with.)

But it was his own bleeding, dying heart that walked with the vampire to meet his son. Geonhak had been watching over a small camp and had jumped at the sight of Youngjo, alarmed then courteous when he saw his own father. He was still a fledgling by then. 

Youngjo had decided to be kind to Geonhak, to open his home, however small it may have yet been, and he felt his chest burst and constrict when hope bloomed in Geonhak's eyes. 

Youngjo learnt what it was like to be kind to himself.

He built himself up. He remembered what it was that he wanted — that he wanted to be good, to go against what the olden whispers said about his kind. He had forgotten, along the way. Became too fixated on being better for others that he had become worse for himself.

Geonhak reminded him of selfishness. He could see the eyes of haunted souls, came across them so many times already in his long life. But Geonhak was here, and he was fighting tooth and nail. Geonhak wanted things for himself, and that was important. That was necessary. Youngjo always wanted to give away freely. That was needed.

They learnt from each other. 

Decades of being kind to one another. Of giving and taking and reaching equilibrium. Of forgetting their loneliness, or unlearning what they tortured themselves with. 

And later, they learnt from Dongju, too. They learnt childishness. It was simple, but it was what they needed. Centuries of getting older grated on you, still tired you even through eternal youth. 

Youngjo could once more let the love he felt bleed out into his home, and Geonhak could once more learn a kindness to himself that he ever so desired. Dongju could learn once more what it was to not want, because he was for the first time in his life content.

•────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅────•

They had all been lonely, or wanting, or alone. 

Except you could remember without drowning in it, and that was easier than breathing when you were with your family — your _family_. The one you had grasped from the moon and gently held.

And maybe Hwanwoong, maybe Seoho; maybe loneliness would stop chasing them. Maybe they could learn to lock it, to unlearn it. To make it remain a distant memory, to trade blows with the perpetrators of their own immolation. 

They could remember it without thinking they _were_ lonely. Because they weren't. Not when they were with each other. 

And maybe that could start by making memories that didn't bleed into one another; far away from the woods that you could get lost in. 

Cities were good at that — newer, kinder memories. 

(So was Youngjo.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! if you're here from the beginning notes and you would like to avoid those parts, i would suggest going forward to the end of the second line divider to avoid them entirely and read from there. but as they aren't too descriptive or graphic, you can opt to read some parts if you'd like! please leave a comment if you'd like me to direct you what words to search or summarize what the chapter talks about. 
> 
> if you've read through it — hello! hehe :) backstory time for half of the characters! a little bit of insight into their pasts and how they met one another!! I hope it was alright to read, and that it's helping with fleshing out the characters and that it's meshing well. leave some feedback if you'd like, and feel free to talk to me in the comments about the chapter! thank you so much for reading and I hope you're doing well!


	9. nine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> errors are mine alone! I hope you enjoy 💞

Hwanwoong curled up next to Seoho on one of the large beds, both of them swallowed by the thick and soft duvets. The lighting was warm still, orange and soft against the dark grain of the walls. The curtains were drawn open, letting silver ribbons fall onto the carpeted floor. The cabinets and all manners of doors were closed, though a nightstand had been pulled ever closer to the bed, a small list placed atop it weighted down by an alarm clock.

"I made it a bit awkward there," Hwanwoong sighed out, turning his body to stare at the ceiling. 

Seoho's humming turned from melodic to contemplative. "That's okay. I do too."

Hwanwoong laughed. 

Keonhee watched them from his own perch, moving over to lay himself over Seoho's lap and onto Hwanwoong's. "You two need to stop being so self-deprecating."

Hwanwoong playfully ignored him. "Do you think they have any idea how dangerous me being here actually is for them?” he asked. There was always that form of genuine concern Hwanwoong had — the anxiety of being next to anyone that he swathed himself in.

"Did you not hear me or are you choosing to ignore me, huh?" Keonhee pouted in rebuttal. Hwanwoong stuck his tongue at him while Seoho extracted himself from the knot and began looking through the empty closets and scarce shelves and cabinets. 

Keonhee's pout deepened. He pivoted himself to hug Hwanwoong from behind.

"They know what they're doing. They have two Purebloods and Geonhak seems really capable," Keonhee said. He was still the least severe of them, when it came to these. He found hope easier than them. 

(He remembered it easier.)

Hwanwoong attempted a more eloquent reply, trying to communicate his budding frustration, but all he could say was, "Not against them."

"You don't know that."

"I'd _think_ I do."

"Stop worrying over it, Woong," Seoho said, cutting through the banter. He was holding a thick book in his hands, opened to a page with an illustration of a laboratory. "Look at this cool chemistry setup instead." There was, indeed a chemistry setup — one that was highly elaborate, with various scrawlings of measurements, instruments, and chemicals that Hwanwoong had never heard about. 

Hwanwoong whined, "Hyung!" 

Seoho just chuckled, genuinely interested in the text. He sat next to Hwanwoong, a hand left for Hwanwoong to hold. Hwanwoong took it and swatted it around, cat-like in his boredom and thought. 

“Am I going to be able to wake up at three?” Hwanwoong mused aloud, to which Keonhee corrected him, saying, “Two. Give yourself an hour to wake up.” Hwanwoong’s eyes widened in childish indignation and he laughed. He didn’t deny it. 

They talked about the little things — how long they would have to walk, how they would fare under the sunlight. They fussed about what clothes they would borrow, whether or not to bundle up. At one point Seoho put down the book and lied down, Keonhee once more draping himself over his coven mates. The three of them knotted themselves together, Seoho humming an old tune with Keonhee randomly harmonizing. Hwanwoong was swaying his head from side to side, following the beat that Seoho recited from a long memory. It was only through the middle of the evening and yet they found themselves in the confines of the room provided to them, still unsure of being in the presence of the coven that had lived there before them. 

Keonhee thought about the future. He had always had a penchant for doing what it was that was presented to him, opportunistic and eager for what the world threw his way. He’d done much the same with Seoho and Hwanwoong, taking it in his stride and walking along despite the overgrown thorns in their cracked path. He had seen them and did what he could, offering a hand. 

But there was always a point, he’d decided. He would hear about the past, of years long gone and fears lingering in the corners. He would hold them together, tying together strings of the eons with the threads of care. He would listen to the fears and the screams, the rustling of leaves, and he would take all of them and assuage the tension, break apart the taut anxiety. He would wrap his arms around Hwanwoong when the other woke up shaking, shielding the smaller frame from the sunlight that spilled onto his skin. He would hold Hwanwoong’s face gently, staring into the golden eyes that reflected Helios’ rays and struck fear into them. 

This was an opportunity, again. This was a chance that life was throwing at them. It was a _risk_ , too. At the expense of themselves and at the expense of Youngjo’s coven.

But Keonhee took chances, he saw them and he asked for them. He lived in the present, and he’d had to pull back enough on the past that Seoho and Hwanwoong was haunted by to propel himself into thinking about the future. They could be happy here. 

It was a risk, but he would take it. 

He’d told Youngjo he’d liked him, after all, and that was as much a promise as what he’d told Seoho and Hwanwoong. 

•────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅────•

Youngjo was picking out clothes hours too early. It was a repetitive motion almost, carding through the closet’s contents, picking an outfit for himself, closing the closet, then moving away. Then he would walk back, taking out a possible top for Keonhee, then looking through it once more to grab one for Seoho. Dongju was sprawled over the bed, complaining about Youngjo’s pacing. 

“Hyung, sit down. We’re going _tomorrow,_ ” Dongju said. 

“They might want to choose which clothes they’ll want to wear. We all have different fits,” Youngjo replied quickly, but Dongju just puffed his cheeks and shook his head. 

“I’m pretty sure they’ll wear anything,” Geonhak supplied from where he was sitting, absently lifting a dumbell. Youngjo smiled at him, thinking, and then put the clothes up on the rack. 

“Alright. What do you want to do then? We have a night to decide how we’re going to act around them.”

Dongju’s voice came out shy when he asked, “Do you think they’re okay with us now?” 

Youngjo turned to Dongju. He dropped his shoulders, looking softly at the fledgling. Geonhak did the same, putting down his weights and then propping himself up next to Dongju. Geonhak stared at the younger for a moment then chuckled, playfully shoving Dongju. 

"Hey, you're being way too serious,” Geonhak said. Dongju glared at him, but it was watery. 

“What if we’re scaring them? I don’t want to make them uncomfortable,” Dongju mumbled. 

Youngjo put his hands on Dongju's shoulders and crouched down. "I'm sure we'd know if they didn't like us, Dongju." 

Dongju whined, tossing and turning over the bed petulantly. Youngjo and Geonhak scooted away from his flailing legs and laughed. "I know!" Dongju said, sighing into his sleeves and latching himself onto Geonhak.

"Okay, we're losing our minds in this room and it's barely been an hour. It's weird that I'm the one suggesting this but why don't we try and befriend them _better_ ," Geonhak suggested. 

Youngjo looked at Geonhak and smiled, a secret that they all shared.

Geonhak's words reminded Youngjo abruptly of the burning good that swam in between them all. It weaved through their silent promises and their patient understanding. He remembered a Geonhak that was still raw from betrayal, appeased only by finding himself. 

And now Geonhak would smile at them, laugh with the deep voice he had, push them away when they slung their arms over his while he did the same to them.

Dongju was still young, still fresh under the moonlight. But even he had his fair share of healing together and knitting closed the wounds of the world. 

Youngjo was not ashamed to say that he loved them. 

"Best idea I've heard from you," Youngjo joked, prepared but still hit by the swift impact of Geonhak's hand against his back.

•────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅────•

Keonhee audibly yelped when the knock first sounded on the door. Despite his heightened senses, he jerked his arms into Seoho's face, eliciting a surprised exclamation from the older vampire. Hwanwoong laughed at them and then turned his head to the door, opening it, meeting the visage of a standing Youngjo. 

Hwanwoong smiled slightly and bowing his head to greet Youngjo. Keonhee was standing up, an embarrassed flush on his cheeks as he tried to hide the paper he had been writing in his hands. Seoho was laughing, a hand resting on his cheek. 

"Hi," Hwanwoong said, eyes guarded but bright. Still Youngjo could see the gold sparks swimming behind dark pupils. 

"Sorry, were we being loud?" Keonhee asked, "We can tone down if you want."

Youngjo replied. "No, you're fine. We were wondering if we could… hang out? Not just introductions, you know. Favorite colors, what are some things you like as hobbies." 

The three looked between each other in slight surprise. 

"That's okay," Hwanwoong said, though his brows furrowed together in confusion. "Should we stay in here or do you want - uh, the dinner room?"

"Just here is fine," Geonhak said. He followed with, "If _you're_ okay with that."

All three of them nodded, and Youngjo pulled out a chair from the corner, placing it far enough away from the bed that Seoho, Keonhee, and Hwanwoong were settled on. The appreciation for the small action was read easily on their faces, though perhaps Youngjo just had a penchant for seeing relaxation shed from usually gaunt faces. Geonhak and Dongju followed suit, sitting from the farthest bed of the three in the room. 

They still hadn't added anything to the room, though that was expected — they didn't have much on them, it seemed. Only the nightstand and the book sprawled open beside Seoho were amiss, the rest of the room gathering dust and reveling in silence.

Keonhee saw how Youngjo scanned the room. Keonhee pouted his lips, a mannerism of his that Hwanwoong teased him about constantly. 

Once more the atmosphere dropped into an awkward quiet and Keonhee decided to open the conversation. 

"Should we play the 'I am ground' game?"

Too overtaken by the need to speak, everyone immediately agreed, noticing only after Dongju was finished that they all already knew each other's names and hadn’t found any way to continue the small game. They had learnt their ages on the second pass, though only Seoho's and Geonhak's were new to them — 163 and 138, respectively. 

"What did we just do," Geonhak laughed, scratching at his head. Dongju chuckled as well, a smile wide across his face like Keonhee. 

Seoho was raising his hand, supporting his raised arm with his other hand and ducking his head. Hwanwoong saw and snickered, but gestured to him for attention nonetheless.

"I like the sciences," Seoho said. 

“Oh, which ones?” Geonhak asked, and Hwanwoong could clearly see the effort it took for the other to stare at Seoho in the eyes. But there was less fear there now, more of an instinct screaming in the back of his head than a conscious decision. Hwanwoong found Seoho far too unthreatening to _understand_ , but he understood the sentiment. 

“He used to steal any kind of book from merchants,” Keonhee said excitedly, his expression completely honest as it portrayed his elation at exposing Seoho’s impulses. Seoho berated him with a smiling, “ _Yah!_ ” 

Hwanwoong was still laughing at his coven mates but then fanned himself — Youngjo noticed it was a mannerism of his — and shook his head. 

“Seoho hyung likes to study numbers and weird facts. He once told us about the constellations during the sunset. We couldn’t really see the stars but he seemed to know where they were,” Hwanwoong said. His smile was both amused and fond, and Youngjo could see the sun rising over his head once more, scaring away Death and his scythe circling Hwanwoong’s neck. 

“Geonhak hyung works out for thirty minutes before he sleeps. He’s all sweaty.”

Geonhak swatted at Dongju, who swatted him back with fervor. They laughed, and Youngjo’s heart beat loudly once against his ribs when Keonhee laughed as well. 

Youngjo stopped for a moment, the world slowing around him as he jerked his head from left to right, looking around the room. 

It was odd — the shields weren’t torn down. They were open and shed, dropped from willing fingers. Fingers that shook; from the fear of the future and the uncertainty of the past. A muddled sea of words and effort, and it had just so happened that he’d realized they were _trying_. Both his coven and Hwanwoong’s were forcing down bile from their throat and trying to breathe through clogging lungs, breathing air that needed to be shared. 

He felt something spark in his chest, and then he started breathing once more, ignoring Hwanwoong’s perceptive eyes. 

(Maybe this would work out.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! again, I hope you guys liked this ! I'm trying to keep up with some more stuff coming up irl in the future, so things might be a little bit slower update wise, but I do have the next few chapters planned out well enough and they're rather casual so I think those might be okay! please look forward to those :') and I hope you can stay patient with me orz  
> leave some comments and some kudos if you're so inclined! I love getting feedback 😅💞


	10. ten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi again! as per usual, the errors such as spelling, grammar, and punctuation found here are mine as this is unbeta-ed work. I hope your enjoy it!

They talked well into the night. It was a clearer air, a fresher breath and fuller lungs. It was comfortable though cautious. 

Keonhee led the charge on his coven, opening the conversations to them after catching it from Geonhak or Youngjo's gentle persuasion. Hwanwoong’s voice was clear but even, a contrast to Keonhee and Seoho’s energetic timbres. Dongju was mostly silent, though he was smiling and bright as he listened. Geonhak’s cold demeanor thinned into acquaintance as Youngjo let himself smile and watch. 

Geonhak learnt the age and a sliver of the stories that Seoho kept packed neatly in his sharp mind, tied there with a gentle intent. He learnt of the other’s years of study, of stories the three of them shared centering around the bundle of energy that was gradually appearing in front of Geonhak. He learnt that Seoho would dive into lakes, flipping himself up over the edge of the shore and making Hwanwoong and Keonhee chase after him.

Dongju learnt that Keonhee was the youngest among them and  _ along _ them, newer but still old and ever present. Keonhee was simple to talk to, unafraid while still careful. Dongju learnt that Keonhee disliked cucumbers and pigeons, much to his own chagrin after years of Hwanwoong scaring him by using his fear of the latter against him. Seoho laughed at the recollection while Hwanwoong smiled, pleased with himself. Dongju learnt that Keonhee would grab Hwanwoong mid-run and topple them both to the floor, reveling in the breaths escaping their lungs. 

Youngjo learnt that Hwanwoong could keep deceptively quiet — and yet he could be so  _ loud. _ The adoration for his coven mates was clear in the way he recounted small occasions he didn't realize were gifts. Youngjo could understand the blinding light running in Hwanwoong's blood when he heard the boy laugh as he threw his head back briefly, Keonhee bearing his weight down on the slighter, stronger form. And there was simply so much that Youngjo couldn't decide which thread was Hwanwoong's and which was his coven's. 

Seoho learnt of Geonhak's burning warmth. He learnt that Geonhak had wanted to become a teacher, that Geonhak’s voice could pitch higher but remain a rumbling tone when he laughed. He learnt that Youngjo liked to tease Geonhak about his smile, and that Youngjo would get an arm slung around him tightly when he did so. Seoho learnt that Geonhak was clumsy, unsure on his feet at times but persisting. Geonhak would stutter over his words, prone to filling in quiet thinking space with a sound of thought and comprehension. 

Keonhee learnt that Dongju laughed more often than not, a contrast to his icy features. He learnt that the fledgling had a penchant for biting Geonhak, latching onto the older vampires in so many forms of the word. He learnt that Dongju had wonder festering in his mind and lips too shy to open and ask, and he realized Dongju had more thoughts than he ever thought a fledgling would need. He learnt Dongju would oversleep and Youngjo would annoy him to wake up. 

Hwanwoong learnt of how Youngjo could smile without covering his mouth. He learnt that Youngjo was content in what was given to him, smiling at the whispers of secrets and uncaring of the details of a past under tears and rain. That Youngjo could watch him wilt under the admission of night terrors and only ask if he could do anything to help. He learnt that Youngjo's eyes were glass, transparent and red as you saw into his heart and he bore it to his coven. Hwanwoong learnt that Youngjo's voice went airy when he laughed, his face turning away as the latter's eyes lingered on Hwanwoong for just a second.

They saw the past dart across their thoughts but only in memories they permitted. It was a freeing feeling, talking and realizing that nothing around them was crashing, that the anxiety in their veins was calmed. It was a night under the moon but she had shed her red rim and shirked the reflection of the sun against her, watching her children with patient, apologetic eyes. 

(They had been so afraid of each other, so blinded by the panic of a red sky that they had almost forgotten how easily filled by happiness they could be.) 

They learnt that Hwanwoong hid his face when he was embarrassed, that Geonhak used his coven mates to do the same. Keonhee was shameless, smiling and laughing along. Seoho would pretend he was shameless, but his ears would flare into a bright cherry color when Keonhee mentioned a memory. Dongju laughed loudly, the sound filling the room. Youngjo's face would light up and he would raise his hand to barely cover his mouth, turning away from them entirely.

They learnt that they felt  _ comfort _ in the other's company. And Youngjo's unbeating heart was too soft to want anything more than that. 

"We should have our meal," Geonhak said, steering the current conversation away from his odd sleeping habits. He was smiling, though, not meeting anyone's eyes.

"Rabbits then or would you like to try something else?" Youngjo asked. He was leaning against the bed, now, switched from his seat to the mattress where Dongju and Geonhak were.

Keonhee was hopeful when he asked if they had beef, eyes sparkling with anticipation. Youngjo nodded, smiling lopsidedly at the sight. Seoho gave a whoop of joy and fell into Hwanwoong. 

•────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅────•

They stared at each other around the table, cups emptied of blood and bowls and plates cleared of savory meat. It was comfortable now, the sound of metal on ceramic simple and straightforward, unafraid. Hwanwoong chuckled once and then started slowly pushing himself away from the table. He bowed his head slightly and grabbed his chopsticks and bowl, beginning to greet them a good night.

"Would you want to see our wing?” Youngjo asked, and Hwanwoong’s eyes widened at him. “Just so you know where to find us if ever… well, whenever you want."

“It’s fine if you don’t want to show us, you can keep your privacy,” Hwanwoong replied, still holding his bowl and utensils. Keonhee was gently prodding him to sit back down and trying to take the dishes from his injured arm, but Hwanwoong remained standing awkwardly. 

“We want to,” Youngjo said, looking at Geonhak and Dongju for their retroactive clarification, pleased when they both nodded in agreement.

Hwanwoong pursed his lips. "Oh. Okay then."

They finished cleaning up the table, washing their own dishes as they went, Youngjo and his coven diligently pointing at what to use to the other three. Keonhee was quick to pick up the layout, at ease in the environment around him and its time. Seoho was more unfamiliar, aware of the words but not confident with using the appliances. Hwanwoong stayed resolutely away from the dishwasher, scrubbing at his bowl in the sink with a sponge. 

When they had laid all the dishes on the rack, Youngjo turned to them and smiled, jerking his head to the direction of the hallway. Dongju walked ahead while Geonhak waited beside Youngjo.

"Come on then," Youngjo invited them, following the short hallway and turning at the bend. He heard three sets of footsteps follow behind him along with the rustle of the borrowed pajamas as the three looked around awkwardly. 

The house wasn't  _ big _ . It wasn't small, either. It was open without being too empty now. (It had space to fill.)

Youngjo quickly pointed out the living room, gesturing to his left as he passed by the door there. He closed the blinds of the window in the hallway and then stopped in front of a dark, wooden door.

"This is my room," Geonhak said, opening the door slightly. "You can come by if you want later on, just knock first."

"Why, what do you hide in there?" Keonhee piped up from the back, and Hwanwoong shook his head in exasperation as he smiled. It was an innocent enough question, but Keonhee's tone came out childishly accusatory. It was respectful, free of any ill-intent, fully realized in its humor. Nonetheless, Geonhak paused and stuttered over his breath, opting to just close the door. Youngjo laughed, walking over to Dongju's room and opening the door to walk inside. Dongju was arranging something in his cabinets, glaring when Youngjo entered. Youngjo saw the ear of one of Dongju's vast collection of plushies get pushed into the cabinet.

“Dongju’s room,” came Geonhak’s voice from outside, and Youngjo turned to see Geonhak waiting patiently outside with the other three. Dongju finished stacking his plushies, trudging back outside with his cheeks puffed. 

“Just don't open anything and it's okay to come in,” Dongju told them.

"Door," Seoho whispered from where he was standing. Hwanwoong gently shoved him in amusement. 

Youngjo pointed over to the end of the hallway to another door, saying, "That's the study. There's a small library and a reading nook you can use." Seoho in particular nodded.

"Lastly," Youngjo continued, gesturing to the wider, ornate wooden door across Dongju's, "This is my room. Come inside, I'll show you around."

"He has his own library in there," Geonhak commented, where Hwanwoong raised his brows in curiosity. 

Youngjo was smirking when he pushed open the door, presenting the room to them. The carpet gave under his feet, soft and pillowy except for where they met the dark walls. His bed was wide and filled the middle of the faraway wall, a nightstand on either side with warm lights. 

It was a large room — perhaps as large as the room Seoho's coven was occupying. The left-hand door was closed and equally as elaborate as the one behind them, and Youngjo waved towards it. "That's my study. I don't usually stay inside, but you might find me there."

"He has the softest bed," Dongju said, walking over to the bed in question, falling into it and grabbing one of the pillows.

"I hope your room is treating you well?" Youngjo asked, walking over to his bed and grabbing a bright yellow plush. He watched Hwanwoong's face closely.

A smile passed over it, soft and warm, making Youngjo pause. 

"Yes, thank you," Hwanwoong said. 

"That's good," Youngjo said. "Well you can feel free to drop by if you want. These two usually do."

Keonhee walked over to the bed, inspecting it and touching the duvet experimentally. There was interest and a sort of homesickness in his eyes. "Can I try it?" He asked. Youngjo nodded his head enthusiastically, moving closer to the center of his sheets and giving Keonhee space to occupy. Youngjo glanced at the trio left standing, sharing a gaze with Geonhak which the other quickly picked up on. Dongju flipped around and latched onto Youngjo's thigh when he got close enough.

"If you want to go back, that's alright as well," Geonhak told Seoho and Hwanwoong, inclining his head to them. "Again, we don't want you uncomfortable. Feel free to tell us if you are."

"No! It's alright," Hwanwoong said, looking slightly alarmed. "I'm just — not used to it yet."

Geonhak nodded in understanding. "Yeah, I was the same." He offered a small smile, recognizing the sight of realization forming in Hwanwoong's head. 

It was first a fleeting moment of sadness, a reminder that Hwanwoong must not have stopped thinking about. 

But then it morphed into something more eager, like hope. A flower, blooming in a barren field, soaking up the sunlight that laid out across the empty lands. Geonhak felt something similar spread across his chest, a heat running through him that reminded him of when he'd seen Dongju arrive through those front doors, of when trees parted and Youngjo appeared between them. 

It was odd. How something so small could remind you so quickly that you weren't alone. How despite  _ thinking _ that you were, when other small reminders simply became forgotten, it was still a small reminder that prompted you to believe once more in the possibility of having someone. 

Geonhak knew little, but he learnt swiftly and deeply. 

(He'd already pulled on his sleeves and displayed his heart once, what was one more time?)

Seoho's voice came from the bed, audibly pleased as he sank into Youngjo's comforter. 

"It's really soft!" Seoho said in awe, pushing his hand repeatedly into the sheets. Hwanwoong looked over to his coven mate, and Geonhak was pleased to see a gentle contemplation continue to swim in them. 

Hwanwoong spared another glance at Geonhak, fleeting but  _ piercing _ through him, and Geonhak was rattled by the warmth that he saw spring inside of them. Again, Geonhak was on the receiving end of Hwanwoong's stare, and he felt bare under it. 

And yet this time he read the warmth before Hwanwoong had started screaming it, and Geonhak felt content in the knowledge that Hwanwoong seemed to learn quickly as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehe :') these chapters coming up are a little more geared towards some domesticity or comfort, so I hope those aren't too bad for you guys!  
> I realized its been over a month of me updating this, and I'd like to say thank you to those that have been reading!! I appreciate your support so much 😭💞💞  
> leave some comments and kudos if you liked it, and always take care of yourselves!!


	11. eleven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, the errors here are mine alone.

Hwanwoong stayed awake thinking about it — about the kindness, about Geonhak's words. He thought about the air, cleared and stilled when he began to struggle for breath. He thought of mirrors, their opposite and their replication, a reflection he couldn't help but notice. 

It was easy to see his coven in Youngjo's own, a blurring together of the two into grey. He could see decades of trust budded from betrayal, anxiety blossoming into calm. It was a familiar story, an echo of images in his mind which he held dear and close to his chest. There was history, old and new, weaving and forming cracks and fissures, healing them over with their own tears. It was simple growth, the fall of trees which gave land for their young to plant roots. 

There were red threads, a look shared, a heart placed in between three souls. Hwanwoong could pick them out and place them parallel to his own memories. 

Geonhak offered him understanding, buried deep under apprehension and wariness but vying for attention. It was wordless but heard. Dongju watched with a desire to speak and to console, but was still too unlearnt to let the words fall. Youngjo seemed to offer all of himself, fearlessly now, pulling back on his blankets of flaming generosity when he saw storms brew in their eyes. 

Hwanwoong turned to face Keonhee who was sleeping lightly, kicking his feet into Hwanwoong's legs. Seoho was on the other end, facing the wall with a pillow clutched to his chest. 

Hwanwoong had learnt that he could smell fear. It smelled of blood and tears, of lightning striking grass and of fire spreading across dry brush. It smelled like the torrent of rainwater into mud, like the shifting of mountains into plains. He could plant it in his stomach, burning it there and watching horror. Youngjo had been afraid, and so had Dongju and Geonhak.

But now it didn't smell burnt. It no longer smelled like poison, eating at them nor eating at him. 

He stood up, walking over to the list on the nightstand and staring at the pen in his hand. With stiff, intent fingers, he wrote something down on the list, the letters curving in elegant strokes forming an unintelligible conglomerate of ink.

Yet it was small, simple, and it was what Hwanwoong decided he would need to remember.

•────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅────•

Seoho opened his eyes to a line of golden sunlight, peeking through the closed curtains and moving from the slide of the fabrics matching the pace of the knocking at the door. A flash of alarm blared in his brain, and he clawed at the curtain to shut it tightly. He looked around, seeing only Hwanwoong and Keonhee, along with the moved nightstand. A gentler knock rapped against the door, and Seoho calmed. He sat up from the bed, careful not to jostle the entangled forms of Keonhee and Hwanwoong. He walked to the door and opened it.

Dongju was standing there, his face groggy and his bright, dyed hair mussed. "Good afternoon," the fledgling greeted. "It's a little bit before two, we weren't sure if you set an alarm."

Seoho's voice came out gravelly from sleep when he said, "Ah, thank you."

"Youngjo hyung gave these," Dongju mumbled, lifting his arms and showing an assortment of clothes. "You can choose which one you want to wear later until we buy your things." He was rubbing at his eyes with his arms and his lips were pouting. Seoho took the bundles of clothes from his arms, arranging them in his own, thanking him once more. 

Dongju turned and left, leaving Seoho to close the door. He walked over to the closet and nudged it open, placing the pile into it. He looked around for a clock, finding one hung near the door to the bathroom. It was ten to two, and he decided to let Hwanwoong and Keonhee sleep for a little more, opting to wash his face.

Looking up into the mirror, he stared at himself, scanning over his features. 

He hadn't seen himself for a while, his reflection often muddled by the splash of rainwater or by the stains of water and pollution on old glass. Occasionally, shattered mirrors covered in dust would give clouded images of himself. Now his hair was dark and clean from their bath the previous day, but it was long and jagged after the poor attempts at cutting it with makeshift blades in woods. His cheeks were sharper, brought on by months of hunger. His eyes were more sunken, dark at the edges and red around his iris. He craned his neck, looking closer to see the flecks of crimson in his brown eyes, staring at them and seeing his pupils blow. 

The door opened and he startled. He threw the nearest thing to him, hands closing around a plastic bottle and flinging it at the figure appearing behind the door. At the same second, he recognized Keonhee's visage and swore as the bottle made contact with Keonhee's head. 

Keonhee yelped, falling backwards clumsily and onto the floor of the bedroom, clutching at his head and glaring at Seoho when he'd stopped whining. 

"You didn't knock!" Seoho screeched, laughing but outstretching a hand in concern. Keonhee took it and continued massaging his head, turning to look whether or not Hwanwoong woke up. Satisfied at the sight of the sleeping form, Keonhee turned back to Seoho and hit him. 

"Were you staring at your reflection again?" Keonhee said, carding his fingers through his own hair and then turning on the water. 

"So what if I was," Seoho replied, poking himself in the cheek. Keonhee shook his head in the sink, wiping away the water from his eyes and flipping his hair up. 

"You look _fine_ ," Keonhee said. "You've been hungry. Not that you yourself minded at the time." There was a raising of the brows as well, looking at him unimpressed. "Actually, you never let me wear the necklace. I'm letting you suffer in silence."

Seoho laughed, aware of the lack of ill intent in Keonhee's words. He rubbed at his neck, feeling the phantom weight of a chain wrapped around it. "I know I look fine! I was just looking."

Keonhee rolled his eyes and walked over to the doorway, pivoting to check the time. Then he walked to Hwanwoong and began to gently wake the other, deliberately placing himself in front of the curtain. Seoho gave his reflection a final passing glance in the mirror and then began looking through the clothes. 

When he'd picked out a loose shirt and some jeans, he turned to check on Keonhee and saw the other lifting Hwanwoong up into a sitting position. He chuckled at the sight and went back into the bathroom to wash up. 

By the time he had showered and changed, Hwanwoong was standing sleepily in front of the closet and Keonhee was ready to swap with him in the bathroom. Seoho let Keonhee enter and he left the borrowed pajamas in the laundry bin.

He pat Hwanwoong's head as he passed and smiled when the younger scratched at his own face lightly and relaxed into Seoho's gentle touch. Then, Seoho arranged the clothes into neater piles and Hwanwoong's answering hum communicated the latter's gratitude. Hwanwoong picked out a large red and black sweater and some navy colored skinny jeans, walking over to the bed after doing so and resting his head on the wall. Seoho left him be, trusting Keonhee to wake him again, and went to walk to the other wing of the house. 

As he passed by the living room, he heard movement inside of it. He knocked on the door, curiosity piqued, and bowed his head when Youngjo opened the door. 

"Hi," Youngjo greeted, tone bright. He seemed at ease with the sunlight. He was already prepared, wearing a shirt and flannel — Seoho remembered the torn up flannel they'd used on Hwanwoong's shoulder and mentally winced — and washed out jeans. There was a hat on his head as well, lightly pressing his dark hair down onto his face.

"Hi," Seoho greeted back. "Keonhee's showering and Hwanwoong is… awake."

Youngjo nodded appreciatively. "Thanks. Geonhak and Dongju are probably finishing up or getting ready. We can eat something for breakfast before leaving if you'd like?" 

Seoho agreed, slightly hungry. "I can cook the rabbits we caught," he offered. 

"If you'd like," Youngjo said. "Is there anything else?" Youngjo asked, when Seoho stayed standing in front of him. 

"Can I watch TV?" Seoho asked, and Youngjo's eyebrows shot up. 

"Oh, of course. Sure," Youngjo affirmed, moving away from the door and letting Seoho in. 

Seoho stepped inside and felt warm. There was a gust of air from inside the room, flowing through in a temperate breeze that made his soul settle into his chest. He'd noticed it before, but with just two people inside he couldn't attribute it to the space taken up by other bodies. 

Youngjo offered him the remote and Seoho muttered his thanks. Youngjo passed a paper with the channels as well, and Seoho interestedly clicked onto the science channel, eyes widening when the image of a black hole greeted him. An inescapable darkness, light and sound grabbed by forces larger than life and kept in shackles. 

He switched to the animal channel, smiling at the kitten on screen. It held his attention for a few minutes, but then he heard the sound of Keonhee calling Hwanwoong to shower and he stood back up. “Thank you,” he said, handing the remote back to Youngjo, who was comfortably watching the kitten, a banana plush clutched close to his chest. Youngjo nodded and switched it over to a different channel, and Seoho last saw the image of a vintage clothing shop on screen before he closed the door. 

Something was swimming in his mind, a mist of an unnamed thing — something he refused to give a title to. 

When he opened the door, Hwanwoong was on him in a second, still slow and sluggish but adamant as he paced over and planted himself into Seoho’s space. Seoho raised his brows, looking down at the other with an amused smile. 

“Yes?” Seoho said, teasing in tone, and Hwanwoong’s palm made contact with his face instantaneously. 

“Brain,” Hwanwoong mumbled, and then pushed off of Seoho and into the bathroom, grabbing bandages as he went. Keonhee was looking at Hwanwoong, eyes wide and smiling with incredulity as he watched the other trudge into the bathroom. Seoho rubbed at his cheek with a disgruntled pout.

“He picks up on your mood really fast, huh?” Keonhee commented. His hair was damp and he was wearing a dark set of clothing, comfortable in the borrowed shirt, jacket, and pants. 

Seoho laughed and shrugged. "Seventy years." 

Keonhee puckered his lips and gave a thumbs up. Seoho smiled wider. 

He told Keonhee about cooking a meal for them before leaving, and the younger offered his own help. Seoho walked with Keonhee to the dining room, then left the other there to ask for Youngjo's permission in using the kitchen. When he knocked on the living room door and it opened, Youngjo was joined by Geonhak already. 

"We were hoping to start cooking," Seoho said, "While we're waiting for Hwanwoong to finish up." 

Youngjo turned off the television and Geonhak stood, joining Seoho back to the kitchen and setting up the stove. 

"If you want, you could try eating something on the side like dessert. It isn't much in terms of energy, but they taste really nice," Youngjo suggested. 

Keonhee was grabbing the rabbits from the freezer when he turned to Youngjo. "What do you have?" he asked.

"We have some ice cream and cold pastries. Dongju keeps candies and biscuits in the pantry," was Geonhak's reply. 

"He doesn't like sharing them with us but I'm sure he'll be alright if you say you wanted to try it," Youngjo said, smiling with light mischief. Seoho replied with his own grin and Keonhee gave a subdued holler. 

They finished cooking their meal and began setting up the table, Dongju coming in midway to the sight of Seoho trying a chocolate cake treat. 

"There's a nicer one in the cabinet left of that," Dongju told him, voice clearer now and face bright.

"Oh." Seoho nodded. "I'll try that next time. This tastes really good too." 

Keonhee, from the other end of the room, said, "I like these candies!" And Dongju helpfully told him what they were called. 

Seoho was just about to get Hwanwoong when the vampire appeared by the doorway, wearing the sweater and jeans he'd picked out and letting the sleeves fall in a heavy fold across his hands. "That looks really big on you," Seoho laughed, and Hwanwoong squinted at him, scrunching his nose and dropping his hair into his eyes. He bared his teeth jokingly, though sharp canines still poked from in between his lips. 

Seoho watched him for a second. "Sit down and come eat."

Keonhee offered Hwanwoong a piece of candy when he sat down beside him, smiling brightly at the pleasantly surprised expression that came across Hwanwoong's features at the taste. 

Seoho smiled as he had his breakfast, letting Keonhee and Hwanwoong lean into him as they cleaned up and prepared to leave. 

When Youngjo opened the door, only then did Seoho realize that they'd woken up to soft beds and light, to comfort and the beat of electricity in the walls. 

He laughed, and Keonhee and Hwanwoong chuckled with him at the unspoken notion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! some little character moments :) if you liked it, please feel free to leave some comments or kudos.


	12. twelve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! as always, errors present are mine. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Hwanwoong took out the list from his pocket, scribbling something onto it. Seoho tried to peek at it but Hwanwoong tilted the paper to hide it from his view. Seoho, spurred on by the action, turned to Hwanwoong's other side and reached for the paper as he smiled. He was teasing now, comfortable as they paced together with the rest of the group. 

The woods rose around them, bathed in the light of the late afternoon. Seoho could trace the remnants of his coven on the trees, wisps of home in a strange place and the smokes of embers that were snuffed out in the dark twilight. He could taste char and tart sweetness in the air, memories of anxiety and of laughter. 

(Youngjo, Geonhak, and Dongju smelled of the same.)

Hwanwoong slapping Seoho's hands away was what finally made Seoho stop and laugh at Hwanwoong's irritated face. Keonhee and Youngjo were looking at them with mild smiles. Dongju on the other hand seemed to flit between looking ahead and looking at Hwanwoong in particular. After a few more minutes of walking through the woods, to a point where they could hear city life if they listened, Dongju turned around to Hwanwoong. 

Seoho held out an arm and then quickly pulled it back sheepishly, seeing the shock pass through Dongju's eyes. Hwanwoong beamed at Seoho's expense and then looked at Dongju. 

"You can try tucking your clothes and folding up your sleeves," Dongju said. Hwanwoong looked at him oddly but then nodded, folding the hems on the top he was wearing and pulling the long sleeves up his arms. He haphazardly tucked in the front of the sweater into his pants, and Dongju fixed it further, grabbing at the sides and smoothing over the folds. Then he stepped back to check, seemingly content as he thinned his lips shyly and gave an 'OK' gesture. 

"He likes looking nice," Geonhak commented from the front of the line. 

Youngjo hummed in agreement. "You all look nice regardless, though," Youngjo added, and Hwanwoong stopped in his tracks. They turned to look at the smaller man and Seoho and Keonhee both laughed at the bemused look Hwanwoong was donning. 

"He's so greasy," Dongju lamented. Youngjo smiled and exhaled a puff of laughter, aware but denying the notion. 

"What! I was just saying they look nice," Youngjo said. Hwanwoong chuckled disbelievingly, brows furrowed in confusion but enjoying the moment. 

"You can see the skyscrapers now," Geonhak said, pointing to the spires appearing above the treeline. They turned to look, Seoho making a sound of wonder and Keonhee one of intrigue. 

"The trail should be close by," Youngjo told them, turning and finding the path. Geonhak stepped beside him and Dongju beside Geonhak. Hwanwoong walked in between Keonhee and Seoho, letting the two move ahead of him and walking in the shadows they cast. 

He looked around the trees, his eyes keen and piercing and weaving through the light of the sun. He hadn't seen an afternoon for years. The flowers always began to shut, morning blooms fading into dry nights and leaves falling from the chill of the sunless sky. He thumbed at the pendant on his necklace, finger smoothing over the encrusted gem.

Moments of silence passed once more, the leaves under their feet soft and malleable as they meshed into the soil. The trail appeared and they heard the crunch of loose sand brought on by tracks of animals and of humans, trekking shallowly into the forest. 

Youngjo's phone rang, startling Keonhee and Seoho. Youngjo gave an apologetic look before answering the call, greeting the person on the other end. They could hear the conversation easily and Dongju and Geonhak's easy expressions assured Hwanwoong. 

They continued on their way and soon the rumble of cars and the towers of buildings surrounded their periphery. Hwanwoong treaded unsurely within it, gravitating towards the center of the group. Keonhee kept his eyes on him but made no other move, choosing instead to point out fascinating stores and homes they passed and listening as Youngjo, Geonhak, or Dongju explained them to him. 

When they arrived at the mall, Hwanwoong had just finished fiddling with his unfolded sleeves and looked more at ease. He looked up at the building with apprehensive familiarity. 

It must have been familiar — malls weren't new, by any means. 

But the white etchings onto grey slates were; the signs of various shops and stores Hwanwoong could barely pick out gossamers of. The signs were of things he knew, in the way you knew it was for clothing or for food, but the items sprawled across the glass themselves were only vaguely distinguishable.

"That's big," Hwanwoong muttered intelligently, and Keonhee chuckled and pushed him, careful to lighten the blow on the shoulder. 

"We'll go to get stuff for the house first since that's only two or three things for us. You can get whatever you might like as we walk through, I talked to someone that can drive them over to the house so don't worry," Youngjo said. 

"Can I buy a shelf?" Dongju asked, smiling. 

Youngjo sighed. "You haven't even set up the one we bought a few months back for your plushies and blankets." 

Dongju's flushed neck and ears convinced them he wouldn't ask further. The fledgling muttered under his breath, something about Geonhak and the tools, but Youngjo and Geonhak both ignored him good-naturedly, drawing closer to the mall entrance, their hair blown back by the gust of cool air. 

It was different: the kind of comfort that Hwanwoong shared and which Youngjo did. They knew why — knew the disparity brought on by walls of warmth and those of hollow trees. It was a riverside, looking over the water with your eyes and seeing yourself mirroring a stranger. It was time, changing with each of their breaths. It had settled in the times of dirt and parchment and fire for Hwanwoong, and yet for Youngjo it had found solace when the skies had turned cloudless and streets had been built over lakes.

Hwanwoong looked at Seoho, seeing the other looking at him inquisitively where he’d stopped, and Hwanwoong took the hand that Seoho offered. Keonhee was holding Seoho’s other hand, looking at the two of them with faux irritation, though his eyes were friendly.

A few steps away from the doorway, Hwanwoong and Keonhee flinched at the raucous sound of clamor inside the mall, and Hwanwoong physically bit down on his tongue. Keonhee gave an outraged cry at the sight of it, whining and pulling Hwanwoong close to him. 

“Don’t do that!” Keonhee said. Hwanwoong scrunched his face at Keonhee but walked beside the taller man through the doors, schooling his expression when the cold blast of air tread over cool skin.

The guards were bored when they scanned over them, letting them pass without much preamble, only pretending to open the bag Youngjo and Dongju had brought. Still, the proximity to them made Seoho and Hwanwoong uneasy. Keonhee didn't mind much, though he was careful. Youngjo offered an apologetic look, much like Dongju and Geonhak who smiled as they grimaced sympathetically.

Youngjo led them quickly to the home portion of the mall, entering the section with a vague gesture of 'follow me'. Hwanwoong had begun to fiddle with his necklace, eyes darting around and trying to shut his senses off, and the alert went nearly unnoticed if not for Geonhak gently leading him there.

The first thing Hwanwoong noticed when they arrived was that there were many shelves. 

Small, square-shaped and compact figures laid next to towers of wooden levels, decorated with empty accessories or fake plants. Boards holding up items that came in cardboard, folded in and over itself into defined sizes. Taller than him, drawing his eyes up to observe the variety of appliances there. There were entire rooms prepared in an open area, couches and tables set out for purchase, a bed folded out with someone laying in it. 

He felt curiosity churn, filling his ears suddenly as he looked around in fascination, eyes skipping over the hundreds of figures and sighting the proof of all that he'd missed. 

Seoho had walked over to a number of items already, fingers fluttering over the surfaces of wood and of metal, pivoting vases and frames and flipping them around. He circled the chiseled tables and looked at the clean lines of identical cabinets. Keonhee took an interest in the door handles, turning them all experimentally and snickering to himself at the different textures of sounds as knobs clicked into their locks. 

Hwanwoong studied lights. He stood on the tips of his toes, fingers gliding over the cold metal of ornate lanterns and fixtures; thumbing at switches and watching them turn from red, blue, yellow, and then white and off. He took a box from the displays — reaching for it carefully with his good arm — and opened it, gently pulling out the lines of lights that unraveled from a loop inside the container. Fairy lights. 

He'd seen them, hanging from the rooftops on winters and cascading down walls in spring. They would outline homes in slight lights, flickering beacons of warmth and humanity. 

He arranged it back into a loop, careful to untangle everything. He closed the box and held it in his hands, staring at it for a while. He thought of the fairy tales that recounted the fluttering of fireflies and pixies. 

He walked over to Keonhee a few aisles over, distracting the other from studying a board of letters. "Look at this," Hwanwoong said, and raised the box to Keonhee's eye line. Keonhee let out a surprised gasp, gently taking it from him and checking the picture of the lights in the front of the box. 

"This is really cute!" Keonhee said excitedly, eyes glittering with the white lights overhead. "You want to ask Youngjo to buy it?" he asked.

Hwanwoong felt shame suddenly flood him and saw Keonhee recognize the moment it struck, the taller of the two putting the box gently down on a shelf and then embracing Hwanwoong. "It's alright! Youngjo hyung said he's okay with it. And you need to  _ rest, _ Woong. Remember? We told you this already."

Hwanwoong released a breath and pursed his lips. 

Even before, he'd never liked spending much, if at all. It felt unnatural now, to have something that he so childishly wanted. But he  _ wanted _ nonetheless. And he'd promised. 

"Alright," Hwanwoong said. Keonhee released him and smiled brightly, teeth sharp before Keonhee controlled his expression. 

Hwanwoong took the box again, holding it close to his chest. 

Dongju's voice came suddenly from behind Hwanwoong. "You might want to get more than one. They're really pretty as a curtain of lights." 

Hwanwoong turned, mildly alarmed, but then he calmed. "Oh." 

"Here," Dongju said, "You can use this basket." 

Hwanwoong took the offered basket cart, holding it by the handle that Dongju offered. Dongju took a few other boxes from the rack of lights and set them in the basket, looking at Hwanwoong with an easily read expression of inquisitive reassurance. Hwanwoong nodded and bowed in gratitude then watched as Dongju walked over to join Geonhak, the older vampire looking at some sort of metal equipment. 

"Have you found anything you like?" Hwanwoong asked Keonhee, rolling his shoulder slightly to fix the bandages into place, pulling on it through the sweater slightly. Hwanwoong pulled out the list, scanning through it as well and showing it to Keonhee. "Anything here?"

Keonhee shook his head and handed the paper back with a small orb he'd picked up. There was a tag on it, and Hwanwoong pocketed the list while placing the prismatic material alongside his lights. "Youngjo hyung's house has lots of shelves and stuff already. I think when we get to the other places I might spend more," Keonhee said, laughing at the ending sentiment. Hwanwoong huffed in amusement and turned the cart in a circle. 

Seoho came clambering over excitedly, effortlessly lifting a small unit that seemed to be made of a multitude of metals and clasps. He called them over to look, eyes shining with mirth as he unlatched the materials from one another and set it up. 

"It folds into different things. It can be a table," he said, quickly configuring it into a squat form of a table, "a little box," he continued, deftly shifting its shape, and finally, hands bordering on too fast, "or even a sort of cabinet with a latch." 

Hwanwoong widened his eyes, mildly impressed. He bent down to fiddle with the hinges and mechanisms, Seoho pointing out screws or construction materials that the latter had noticed, explaining to Hwanwoong and Keonhee the various ways parts interacted together to form the different functions of the material.

"Are you going to ask for it?" Hwanwoong asked him, playing with one of the latches, enjoying the clicking sound of a magnet. 

"... Maybe," Seoho answered, the thought only then seeming to cross his mind. "I should buy some locks too."

Hwanwoong paused. "How fancy are locks now?" he asked, and he looked so genuinely distraught over it that Keonhee laughed. Hwanwoong turned to the brunet, berating him with a look. 

"I'll go ask them where I can find locks. Can I put this in there?" 

At Hwanwoong's nod, Seoho quickly sought out Youngjo, easily tailing the scent of the other vampire despite the dozens of other scents surrounding them.

Hwanwoong looked down at the cart, and something tipped askew in his thoughts. 

They were in a mall. Buying things for themselves. Because they were staying somewhere. 

He'd forgotten the feeling of relief, and the sensation of it made him feel alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiya!! i hope you like the chapter this time around! They're in the city now !! hehehe  
> also,, last tbontb stage :'( but! looking forward to their future plans!   
> if you liked it, comments or kudos are much appreciated! thank you so much, I hope you're well!!


	13. thirteen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all possible errors in this chapter are mine! I hope you enjoy this update 💞

Youngjo and his coven came over to them, Seoho at the front of the group and trying for conversation as he held a bundle of locks and keys in his hands. Upon seeing the basket Hwanwoong was holding, Youngjo beamed at them, transparent in his excitement. Geonhak smiled as well, and Dongju's eyes peered at them softly.

"We finished buying what we need from this section, but you can feel free to look around more," Dongju said. 

None of them said anything; Seoho, Keonhee, and Hwanwoong looked at one another and affirmed to each other that they wouldn't buy anything else. "We're okay, thank you." Keonhee spoke politely in reply. He continued, "These are pretty much all we really liked."

Youngjo nodded his head. "Well, if you want anything for your room in the future, you can tell us and we'll try to arrange for something." 

"We're going to get their toiletries next, right?" Geonhak asked, and Youngjo once more nodded. 

"Here, let me pay for those," Youngjo said. He took the cart from Hwanwoong, smiling as he did so.

As the five of them stood there, waiting for Youngjo to return, they glanced at each other indiscreetly until Seoho chuckled at the absurdity of it. 

"You adopted us," Seoho joked lightly, though there was a bemusing tone of enlightenment. Geonhak gave an audible sound of confusion at the declaration. Dongju's brows furrowed while Keonhee and Hwanwoong squinted until exasperated comprehension dawned on them.

"Picked us up at an adoption center, decided we were alright, got some papers filed, brought us to your house, and now you're redecorating our room," Seoho listed off, pleased with the connections he'd made and content without expounding further. His coven mates didn't quite feel it appropriate to leave it there, and Keonhee and Hwanwoong stumbled over each other to explain. 

" _ You found us in the clearing _ — the whole thing in the forest — Youngjo was —  _ sort of _ — okay with letting us stay — we had to agree to stay —  _ we hadn't decided on staying anywhere yet _ — we got invited in —  _ I held up Youngjo at the door _ — and now we're buying stuff for our room."

Geonhak had to blink a few times, dulling his other senses and sharpening his hearing to distinguish the overlapping voices. Dongju was smiling awkwardly, unsure what to do. 

"I guess we did?" Dongju said, and his voice was high in his throat and the sentence turned shrill at the end. He even shrugged his shoulders. 

"Yeah," Seoho replied. At his nonchalance, Hwanwoong laughed. (It was honest, and though they didn't understand, Geonhak and Dongju found themselves smiling in return.)

Youngjo came back and told them the things would arrive at their house within the day and to expect a visitor later on. Then, he gestured to a store on the opposite side of the court they were standing in.

"You can get your cosmetics and hygiene products there," Youngjo said. "Dongju and I will go grab things from the store next over. Geonhak can help you around and if you need to find us, feel free to call."

Keonhee immediately sought out shampoo and soap, Geonhak walking in step with the taller vampire after pointing to the pharmacy. Seoho accompanied Hwanwoong through the aisles, scouring the shelves for first aid kits.

It still felt awkward — however long he thought of it — to be looking at items which he'd only seen for years through the lens of an unreachable glass, now in his own hands. How he could touch them, feel the warmth that they exuded into his skin, how they could be  _ theirs, _ somehow. 

Youngjo didn't know them. Neither did Geonhak nor Dongju. Hwanwoong didn't know them either, not in the way he knew Seoho or Keonhee. They didn't know the fears or the memories they kept under their chests.

He was almost irritated that Seoho's observation of being spontaneously adopted was becoming more and more apparent. But he just chuckled at the thought, humorous in the light self-deprecation. 

Seoho was focusing on the labels on the antiseptics, eyes scanning quickly over the letters and deciphering the chemicals. They'd learnt over the years that some concoctions did more harm than good, though few and far between. Seoho had been the first to pick up on the differences, keen intellect swiftly recognizing the sickness that would ripple in small waves through their lungs. He'd become more careful then, unwilling for even a droplet of blood to be spilt over a slip in caution. 

When he'd finished reading through the labels, he handed two bottles of antiseptic to Hwanwoong and Hwanwoong took them, obtaining a basket from a nearby stack to put them in. Next, they found a wad of bandages and Seoho picked up a bright colored brace. 

"Do you want to buy a sling or something for your arm?" Seoho asked. Hwanwoong shook his head. 

"Stop spending more money, it'll heal up in a bit anyway," Hwanwoong chided. Seoho smiled but put it back. 

They grabbed the supplies that they had used up from Youngjo's house and added a few other items, either duplicates or materials that they'd found useful in the past decades. Content with what they'd collected, they went to find Keonhee, the other standing in front of a collection of hairspray.

"He's been choosing which one to get," Geonhak told them, laughing slightly.

"There's even  _ more _ options now!" Keonhee exclaimed, elated at the fact. Hwanwoong's face screwed up. 

"You had horrible hair the last time you used that, please don't look like that again," Hwanwoong commented. 

"As if you were any better!" Keonhee jabbed back, stomping his feet lightly. 

"He was, though, Keon." Seoho said. The eldest vampire was smiling, obviously amused by the conversation. "You tried that ugly wax colorant once." 

Keonhee physically cringed at the reminder and conceded, puffing his cheeks out petulantly. "I'm getting this one," Keonhee mumbled, grabbing a can of hairspray and stuffing it next to the first aid materials Seoho was carrying. Seoho giggled and pat Keonhee's head, the action making Keonhee relax and cease his childish muttering. Hwanwoong smiled and sighed at their antics.

Geonhak was carrying a basket of the items Keonhee had picked out, a pile of random things that varied in color, size, and name. There were packets of things and jar-like containers. Hwanwoong offered to carry them, but Geonhak looked pointedly at Hwanwoong's right shoulder. Still, the other smiled at him, and Hwanwoong just nodded in surrender, sheepish. 

"Do you know there are masks you put on your  _ neck _ , now?" Keonhee was telling them, genuinely fascinated, his vowels rounding as his eyes looked around curiously at rows of cosmetics. 

"Cover up those vampire bites," Seoho said humorously, to which Geonhak and Hwanwoong both laughed slightly. Seoho lit up at the reaction, grinning to himself. 

"Speaking of. Do you want anything from here?" Keonhee asked suddenly, branching off from them and walking to a stall of makeup. He picked up a blush from the stock, long fingers opening it and showing it to Seoho with a smile.

Seoho chuckled as he answered, "Like that'll do anything. I'm so cold it might just slide off my face."

Something caught Hwanwoong's attention, dimming the sound of Keonhee, Geonhak, and Seoho having a passing conversation about the cool touch of their skin. 

It was another box he saw, still brightly colored. It was pink. He stepped closer to it and read it out, looking at the hair dye in fascination. He was reminded of Dongju's bright hair, of the dozens of humans he'd seen walking through cities and empty parks with vivid strands through their hair, fluttering in the wind and framing them in colorful lights. He knew of dye, had seen even kings color their hair darker for a facade of youth. It fascinated him. It fascinated him the way that towering glass did, a testament to the changing of the world and what was and was not easy. 

It took poison and venom then, to make what was now at the touch of the fingertips. Blood had been spilt over sand, and now they were found in patches of land ripe for the taking. Before, it took fabrics and metalwork to change everything. Now, you could change yourself in the matter of hours, changing everything from your appearance to yourself. 

(Every day that Hwanwoong had been running, change itself had been running right alongside him. It didn't scare him as much as he thought it should have. There were other things to fear.)

Shyly, he walked up to Geonhak and waited for the other to turn to him. Geonhak smiled and hummed, the tune questioning. 

"Can I get this?" 

Geonhak nodded once, took it from Hwanwoong, and placed it into the basket Keonhee had given him. 

Hwanwoong stood there, slightly stunned still as Geonhak silently walked to the aisle as well and came back with three other bottles that Hwanwoong couldn't clearly make out the letters of. 

"You want to dye your hair?" Keonhee asked. The question was obvious, and yet only then did it sink in what Hwanwoong had done by reaching for the box. 

It  _ excited _ him. It was a childish eagerness, a discovery of something under dirt which you would bring home. It was finding a bird in the branches of a tree and having it fly in a line overhead. It was  _ change. _ It was new, and for some reason, Hwanwoong had always been elated at the prospect of that — of leaving behind what there was and looking forward to what there  _ was. _

He thought of changelings and shapeshifters, the way they were different from every moment. Able to do everything because they were everyone. It was peculiar of him to relate them with something as simple as hair dye, but it was change. 

"Pink is really pretty," he answered, and trusted that Keonhee understood anyway. 

They went to get the remaining toiletries they needed, Seoho fixating on the labels and claims made across the covers of toothbrushes and soaps, confounded by some of the text printed across the covers. Keonhee seemed content just chatting with Geonhak, constantly asking the other questions about which items he used, whether or not strawberry-flavored toothpaste really tasted like strawberry; the latter of which Geonhak replied to with the answer of he shouldn't eat toothpaste.

Hwanwoong offered to join Geonhak in fetching Youngjo. The taller of the two waded through the sea of people swiftly, moving quickly and familiar with the motion. Hwanwoong knocked into a few people, though he tried his best not to. He apologized under his breath, feeling their eyes glance off of him. 

Youngjo was talking to someone, though he looked unbothered when Geonhak appeared behind him. The man standing across Youngjo was tall, hair dark and eyes hidden. His voice was a contrast to Youngjo's, deeper in timbre but lighter in tone. He didn't seem to notice Hwanwoong, and smelled distinctly of the forest and of moonwater. Hwanwoong heard the beat of a heart, thumping against skin and rushing with blood. Faintly, he could see a shimmer of light around the stranger, dusting his hair purple and his skin teal. 

He hadn't met a witch before. Hwanwoong knew of them, had seen them in passing, but he'd never talked to them. It had always been fleeting interactions, electricity in the air or a ripple in the waters. He'd drank potions brewed by them, taking flasks of liquids from them to stave off hunger infection with Seoho and Keonhee — but the ease with which Youngjo's shoulders dropped around the witch was unfamiliar. 

Youngjo excused himself from the conversation politely and went to Geonhak and Hwanwoong, asking them what the matter was. 

"They picked out some stuff already,” Geonhak told him, and greeted the witch amicably. “Tell Dongmyeong that Dongju’s  _ still _ teething,” Geonhak added, commenting about the fledgling that Hwanwoong could see was paying for something at the counter.

The witch laughed and then turned his attention to Hwanwoong. Hwanwoong offered an attempt at a smile, pulling his lips close together for fear of showing his fangs. 

“Hi, I’m Yonghoon,” the witch introduced himself amicably. He offered his hand as well and Hwanwoong took it, shaking it firmly before letting go. "Youngjo's told me about you, I'm glad to meet you," Yonghoon said brightly. Hwanwoong's gaze darted to Youngjo in a panic. 

Youngjo, realizing the situation, stepped closer to Hwanwoong. "Hwanwoong, this is Jin Yonghoon. He's part of a coven with Dongju's twin and he's the one we asked to help with the stuff we're buying and bringing over," Youngjo told him. Hwanwoong's eyes widened in comprehension, and he smiled slightly wider. 

“Yeo Hwanwoong, nice to meet you,” Hwanwoong said. 

“I hope you’re doing well with Youngjo. If ever he gets annoying, you can feel free to stay with us for a bit,” Yonghoon joked, smiling brightly. The wisps of magic fell around him in flutters, and Hwanwoong watched them for a moment. Youngjo scoffed from beside him in mock annoyance but it was lighthearted. 

Yonghoon laughed when Hwanwoong rejected the offer and tried to bow, waving off the action quickly and bowing as well. 

"We'll go ahead, they're buying stuff over at the pharmacy," Youngjo said as Dongju came back and handed Yonghoon some bags. "Thanks for the help!"

As they turned away, Hwanwoong gave a final smile that Yonghoon reciprocated easily. Then, someone appeared to greet the witch, holding bags of items too. He was slighter, features stoic but an air of intrigue around him. They smelled of each other, and Hwanwoong turned away, pleased for Yonghoon. 

Geonhak, Youngjo, and Dongju were talking to one another as they walked, glancing behind them at times to check on Hwanwoong, and another flush of comfort flooded Hwanwoong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi!!! hehe... so ! yeah there's definitely going to be the introduction of some other characters!! They won't be having too major of a role but, yeah! Again, just continuing some domestic moments in this chapter.  
> As always, if you liked it, I'd love to hear from you guys! I hope you're all doing well and staying safe!


	14. fourteen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this work is unbeta-ed, and so all errors are mine! I hope you enjoy ! :)

Seoho and Keonhee had picked out even more items in the time they were gone. They had grabbed candies from the counter near the cashier, an assortment of bath salts, two tubs of skincare products, funny looking plastic syringes, and were fussing over a shower ball when Youngjo approached. Hwanwoong grabbed the shower ball from Keonhee and placed it back onto the rack, eyebrow cocked, unimpressed. 

"They said Youngjo hyung could buy a mall, this is just a loofah!" Keonhee retorted immediately, though Hwanwoong hadn't said anything. 

"You have  _ seven _ jars of salts or something," Hwanwoong replied, drawing his brows together as he held one of the jars up and turned the label to Keonhee. 

Geonhak laughed, "Dongju has three all for himself." 

Keonhee, spurred on by the admission, gestured to Dongju, hands splayed out and eyes wide, a mannerism of rectifying himself. Hwanwoong sighed and chuckled at his obnoxious coven mate. He looked at Youngjo, who was smiling softly. 

"Sorry about them," Hwanwoong apologized, to which Youngjo practically cut him off.

"He's  _ right, _ you know? I don't mind. At all, really. Just think of this as starting anew and getting settled somewhere. You're going to need a lot of things, and I've got the resources to provide you those. Knock yourselves out."

Hwanwoong pouted, and the sight of it endeared Youngjo slightly. 

Youngjo took the baskets from both Keonhee and Seoho then grabbed three shower balls, placing them into the basket as well when he began to pay for the products.

Hwanwoong glared at Keonhee and Seoho, though the latter pointedly ignored it with a smile and Keonhee looked smug. 

Again, they left and Youngjo led them to another section of the mall, but any one of them could notice the diminishing space between the two covens. (Nobody said anything, unsure if it was ease or if it was the less taxing option compared to the sea of hot, red bodies around them.)

Dongju hurried over into the supermarket, scurrying into a booth full of sweets. Keonhee followed suit, eyes wide at the plethora of food and interested in the bright colors surrounding the candies. Seoho turned instinctually to the scent of meat, peering into the freezers and ecstatic at the sight of the frozen flesh there. He opened it and looked at the stickers on the containers, continuously looking more and more excited. Hwanwoong looked at them, laughing to himself. 

"What will you buy?" Geonhak asked, and Hwanwoong shrugged. 

"Whatever they eat, I'll just have a taste." 

"So double up on everything?" Geonhak said. Hwanwoong frantically waved his hands around. 

"No, it's… it's okay. We share," Hwanwoong answered. 

"You're really stubborn, aren't you?" Geonhak murmured, not quite quiet enough — though that might have been the point. 

"I don't — I'm just not used to it," Hwanwoong sighed. Geonhak's eyes softened. "I've never really even gone out to  _ buy _ anything with them," he continued, and he was further untucking his sweater and hiding his hands in his sleeves. 

He startled when Geonhak knocked his shoulder into Hwanwoong’s, bending his knees to reach the shorter vampire. Hwanwoong quickly caught his footing, reflexive. Geonhak smiled at him, quirking his mouth to the side meekly and Hwanwoong stared at him for a moment before chuckling. Geonhak had a way with non-words, an intent in every action of his that simply breathed in through him. It made Hwanwoong feel  _ better, _ not needing to talk, just having Geonhak there. He reminded him of Seoho, in a way. 

“Go check on Seoho. He looks like he’s going to eat those any time right now and we need to pay for them first,” Geonhak suggested. 

Hwanwoong scurried over to where Seoho was hovering over a tray of fine venison. The older’s eyes were thrumming briefly with hunger, and Hwanwoong had to ask him what he was staring at for Seoho to shake his head and look back at him. It still fascinated Hwanwoong, the way that crimson turned to honey.

“Do you think these taste better?” Seoho asked, and Hwanwoong’s response of, “Obviously, these aren’t drowning in salt. What are you talking about,” was immediate. Seoho laughed, muttering, “Yeah, that’s probably true.”

Keonhee continued to follow Dongju around, grabbing random items from the shelves and eagerly placing them into a rapidly filling basket. Dongju handed it to Keonhee, and though the taller of the two gave a curious glance, he didn’t refuse the request and carried it. Hwanwoong and Seoho were circling around small sections, joined intermittently by Youngjo or Geonhak as the last two grabbed the necessities. 

Again, Youngjo paid at the cashier, drawing out a card from his wallet. The person at the counter didn’t spare them much of a second glance, but Hwanwoong still played with his necklace, anxiety leaving an uncomfortable taste in his mouth. 

“Let’s go get your wardrobe,” Youngjo said, turning from the cashier with a smile and pocketing his card. His smile was wider as he said it, a twinkling star burning suddenly in his eyes.

“If he gives you a bunch of clothes, just try them on and don’t argue with him,” Geonhak whispered to Hwanwoong and Seoho. Keonhee was busily eating a pack of candy that he’d nabbed from the cashier, taking it before Youngjo had asked for it to be stored for someone else to pick up.

•────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅────•

When they arrived at the clothing department, Keonhee was quick to comment that, "Woong, you don't look like you'll fit in some of these." 

Hwanwoong looked down at his sleeves, tugging them up past his arms and sighing. "Is there a kid's section?" he mumbled petulantly, and was surrounded by chuckles. (The sound of it made his chest warm and he found himself smiling.)

"I'll be back. I'll go and pick some out that you guys might like," Youngjo said, departing quickly after his warning and heading deeper into the store, briskly disappearing behind a rack of jackets. 

"We should get lots of shirts and pants," Seoho said, already scouring through a pile of nearly identical tops. 

“The nicer ones are when they’re hung up,” Geonhak said. “It’s more worth it to buy some decent quality ones than stockpile a bunch of less quality. I get it, don’t get me wrong, but things I’ve learnt, is all.”

Seoho thanked him for the advice and dragged Hwanwoong and Keonhee through the various aisles, picking out shirts that he liked into the holder. Keonhee was quickly lost, grabbing a basket for himself to place his clothes in as he walked away from them curiously. Hwanwoong looked through some of the items as well, blanching at the prices on particular ones but forcing himself to take one or two that he thought he would like wearing. Seoho stopped in front of a stack, pausing in his steps and then flitting his eyes from a shirt and onto Hwanwoong. He was smiling impishly, swiftly grabbing a shirt and arranging it underneath the others in the basket he was carrying. Hwanwoong hadn’t given it too much thought, only seeing a vague blur of grey, but he looked at Seoho blankly nonetheless. 

“It’s a surprise!” Seoho said, and he looked truly pleased with himself. Hwanwoong softened and nodded, shrugging. 

“I’ll pick you out something then,” Hwanwoong told him, and began scanning the nearby clothes. He settled on an obnoxious hoodie, slightly surprised by the softness of the material but choosing it because of the awkward text scrawled across it messily. Another lingering glance had him spotting a turtleneck, and he remembered Seoho wearing them from a time of before. Comfortable with the light nostalgia that ran through him as he did so, Hwanwoong plucked it from the rack and placed it into the basket. With a final once-over, he also chose something that he vaguely recalled Keonhee saying he liked the look of, the denim jacket sitting heavily in the container. He wasn't exactly familiar with what sizes were whose, nor if he was even thinking of them the right way, but he approximated them to be ample enough. 

He heard exclamations of excitement from a few stalls over from Keonhee, hearing much the same from Seoho only a few steps away. He could hear the footfalls of Geonhak, Youngjo, and Dongju circling them, weaving through spaces unseen. It calmed him, put him at ease in the cold, white walls. 

Hwanwoong was looking interestedly at a pair of ripped jeans when Youngjo came walking to them, arms full of clothes and a smile wide and bright on his face. There were all manners of fabrics clutched in his fingers, holding up shirts, sweaters, and jackets. There were pants and other things, and Keonhee appeared from behind a stack of long-sleeved shirts to help carry the large mound. It wasn't heavy, by any means, but it must have been uncomfortable, and Keonhee said as much when Youngjo asked why he'd done that. 

"How about you guys try these on? I got some for each of you," Youngjo said, eyes honest and open, and it struck a chord in Hwanwoong how unashamedly  _ kind _ Youngjo was. It was easier than breathing, seeing how Youngjo would smile for them, offering comfort without fear of being himself, and that was comforting. 

(Hwanwoong was so aware of deceit that he felt bare without it. Yet somehow he felt that Youngjo could hold Hwanwoong still, plant him in the ground and stare into his eyes, and still Hwanwoong would only see those red mirrors.)

Hwanwoong's voice came out oddly flat as he agreed and he screwed up his face, clearing his throat and coughing to rectify the sound. 

"Of course," he repeated, "Which one should I try on?"

Youngjo excitedly handed him the pile from his right arm and some from the left, Hwanwoong bundling them into his arms after Dongju took his basket. He looked dumbly at the mound in his hands but looked for the changing room nonetheless, following Youngjo's eager gesture. Hwanwoong saw Youngjo give Keonhee and Seoho their own collection of clothes to try on, the elated vampire taking their baskets from them. 

They all walked into the changing rooms, Youngjo trying to smother his wide smile in politeness. But still, his eyes were wreathed in excitement. He handed them their respective baskets, bright as he waited for them. "Tell me which ones you like, I'll go return the rest and if you want, I can pick out more things for you or you can just go around some more."

Hwanwoong picked a stall near the corner and set the clothes on the chair that was there. He heard Keonhee and Seoho latch the locks on nearby stalls, and he firmly shut the door as well in spite of his assuredness of privacy. There was a wide array of clothes in front of him, varying in colors, fabrics, and styles. He arranged both his and Youngjo's chosen clothes vaguely into similar groups, placing shirts together and separated from long-sleeves. The pants he quickly sorted between fitting and loose. He kept what he'd picked for Seoho and Keonhee separate. 

He pilfered through the tops first, taking off the heavy, large, red and black sweater he was wearing and setting it on one of the hooks. He tried on the shirts Youngjo had picked out, the handful being soft on his bruised skin and comfortable as he maneuvered his bandaged shoulder. The sleeves came past halfway through his elbows for some and shorter for a few, colors dyed all shades from darks and pastels. The long-sleeved shirts he found fell comfortably around him. They almost nearly covered his hands, and he enjoyed the tactile feeling as he played with the hems from within the fabric. He was pleasantly surprised to notice that Youngjo hadn't gotten him anything all that fitting, all of the shirts somewhat loose and flowing around his arms and torso. Perhaps it was simply because he wasn't particularly tall, but with the selection present, Hwanwoong didn't doubt the amount of material Youngjo had to work with. 

Hwanwoong felt oddly seen by the gesture. 

He tried on the sweaters and hoodies next, pulling them gently up his arms. They felt warm and airy, light as they laid on his chest and enveloped him. Some felt odd — heavy but thin, thick but weightless — but not unpleasant. They were trimmed to all different lengths, various images and patterns adorning them aesthetically. He set the ones that suffocated him off to one side and then placed the rest into the bag, folding them. He laughed when he saw a turtleneck nearly identical to what he'd gotten Seoho, but he put it in the pile he liked anyways. He did the same for the jackets, wearing one of the light shirts he'd liked as he looked at the outerwear.

The jeans and pants went much the same way, changing swiftly between the clothes and pausing on some he liked marginally more than previous ones. With one particular set of loose pants, he gave a smile as he walked around the small stall with them, the free-flowing texture agreeable. 

He arranged the clothes back into piles, carrying the baskets outside. Seoho was already finished, looking content with his selection of clothes which Hwanwoong noticed was significantly expansive. Youngjo looked pleased at the observation and smiled at Hwanwoong as well. 

Hwanwoong thanked him honestly, lips curling in shy gratitude and then widening into a grin when Keonhee nearly slammed the door open, overjoyed at the set of pants he was wearing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehe,,, fashion :') still just some more domesticity and relationship building! I hope this isn't boring 😅😅😅   
> feel free to leave some feedback below! thank you for reading either way!


	15. fifteen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as per usual, this is my own unbeta-ed work! all errors here such as punctuation and spelling are mine, and if you find them, feel free to tell me! I hope you like this chapter!

Hwanwoong enjoyed picking out clothes. After they had tried Youngjo's initial hoard, they circled the stores again, now more unashamed as they picked out random articles that made them laugh or ones that they liked. Plain shirts and repetitive designs had morphed into more inane figures, wild colors strewn over fabrics and textures rough on their fingertips. 

They had also started looking at the shoes on display, Seoho folding rubber shoes into themselves to test them. Keonhee took a mix of comfort wear and more formal designs for his own shoes, sandals placed next to a pair of leather shoes in his basket. Hwanwoong fixated on boots and was teased by his coven mates about choosing ones with platforms. Youngjo complimented the shorter man on his choices though, elated at the replying satisfaction from the other. Seoho was delighted at the various sock designs he saw, simplistic in his joy as he stacked collections of socks into his basket. Keonhee on the other hand was bemused at the sight of some of the products, smiling but flabbergasted at the example of sleeves that you attached to shirts. 

"Why not just buy long sleeved shirts?" he'd asked, squinting at the cylinders of fabric in his hands. None of them had an answer for him past Youngjo's, "Fashion."

Geonhak laughed later when he caught Youngjo staring at Hwanwoong inspecting a dress shirt. Youngjo turned to look at him, and Geonhak quipped, "You look like a proud father, you know?" 

Youngjo chuckled once. "What do you mean? I'm just a kid, not a father at all." 

"You're practically  _ my _ dad," Dongju rebutted, voice deadpan. 

"Well, you're a  _ baby _ ."

Youngjo was rewarded with another shove from behind him and an irritated Dongju. Youngjo laughed and went back to looking at the other three. 

Once more, they went to the changing rooms and sieved through the clothes they had chosen. Hwanwoong had avoided it the first time, but then he began to  _ look _ at himself in the mirror. He pulled at his cheeks, mussed around his hair. He blinked slowly, rubbing at the dark impressions around his eyes. The clothes fit him well, and he smiled at his reflection. He played around with the dark strands of his hair and thought briefly about the hair dye he'd bought. He wondered if pink would suit him.

He was the last to leave the stalls that time, Keonhee already chatting with Youngjo and Seoho studying the tags on the clothes. Their baskets were piled ever higher, bags surrounding them.

As they were walking to pay for their clothes, Dongju made an alert sound. Everyone looked at him inquisitively. 

"I wanted to get a ring," Dongju chirped. Geonhak sighed exasperatedly. 

" _ Another _ ring?" Geonhak asked, and Dongju glared at him. 

"You have a whole box of earrings!"

Youngjo shook his head as the two started to tease and butt heads, taking his hand out of his pocket and releasing the hold on his wallet. He led the other three to the lit displays of the various accessories, knowing his coven mates followed him despite their bickering. 

"Do any of you three have piercings, actually?" Youngjo asked while Dongju began looking through the rings. Hwanwoong and Seoho blinked at him. 

"I got some," Keonhee said, pulling on his ears lightly. "A decade or two ago, I think. They're still open because I wear earrings sometimes but I'm not sure about Hwanwoong and Seoho hyung."

Seoho hummed. "I did. They might have closed? I'm not sure. I play with my ears a lot."

"I got mine a long time ago, but I think they didn't really close," Hwanwoong admitted. 

Keonhee went over to him, pulling suddenly on Hwanwoong's ears. Hwanwoong yelped and pushed Keonhee's arms away, soothing his ears. 

"They seem alright!" Keonhee said happily. Seoho swatted the taller vampire away before he could do the same to him and just grabbed one of the earrings in front of them. He winced as he blindly put it in, face scrunching in discomfort but the earrings fitting nonetheless. Hwanwoong checked it for any sort of irritation or bleeding and pat Seoho on the shoulder when he found none. 

Hwanwoong looked through the glass, content in just looking through them, the uneasiness of spending money once more budding up in a well inside of him. Keonhee was peering at the assortment of earrings present, thumbing absently at the ring on his finger. Seoho fixated on a handful of earrings and the variety of necklaces, voice melodic as he muttered to himself. 

When Hwanwoong's fingers found his amulet, he paused and then took out the list. He scanned through it, sighed to himself, and then began more closely inspecting the displays.

Seoho took two pairs of earrings from the stall, barring the ones he had tried on, and held them up to his eyes. He was frowning in concentration as he did so. One pair was studs which had prisms in the middle, the bright spectrum of colors refracting off from the surface. The other was simpler, a dangling set of a geometric line. He held them in his left hand as the right reached for a fine, thread-like chain of a necklace with a piece dropping from its middle. The ornament was similar to those of his earrings, though perhaps only in silhouette. The metal flower blooming from the necklace was just vaguely reminiscent of the gems on the earrings. 

Keonhee was looking at a black set of earrings in the mirror, turning his head left and right. They caught the light and shone, hitting his eyes once and making him scrunch his face slightly. They were dark but transparent, contrasting in texture and color. He had also chosen a band ring, thick and simple, though they noticed that he'd looked at something inscribed within with a tender smile, eyes shining. 

Hwanwoong slowly urged out a jewelry set from the back of the case; the necklace, pin, ring, and earrings all silver and shining against the white lights. There were slight glints of gold, a bead of deep sunlight carved into each. Content as he looked at the pieces, he pocketed the list once more and clutched at the box protectively. 

Dongju found a ring he liked, and they finally continued back to the counter labeled  _ Cashier 10. _ Hwanwoong, even from a distance away, could tell that the person at the cashier was distinctly inhuman. Easily, Hwanwoong's mind supplied him with the thought that the cashier must have been a hybrid or half-blood, integrated into human society easily and comfortably. She smelled of copper but also of plastic, a scent Hwanwoong had already placed before. 

When they drew nearer, recognition and friendliness flared in the cashier's demeanor. "Strays?" the cashier asked quietly as they stepped in front of her, eyes gentle. 

Youngjo chuckled. "Maybe."

"You really need to expand your house if you keep this up," she commented. Hwanwoong read her name tag, swiftly discovering her name was Byulyi.

"It's not that often," Youngjo said, and Byulyi laughed. 

"You're kidding me. It better  _ not _ be. You got a whole copy of you. If you're taking up four kids next time you'll need a condo," she chuckled. Youngjo laughed with her, red at the ears.

"Fine," she said, "I'll punch these in for you. Hand them in and you guys can chat or something. This'll take a while. Yonghoon again, I'm assuming?"

Youngjo nodded an agreement at her question, slightly embarrassed at the amount of things he'd put on her station. There were baskets all along the counter and on the lower protrusion, even adorning the floor in a mess of clothes and boxes. 

Hwanwoong made an aborted sound from the back of the group and flushed red. When the rest looked at him, he puffed his cheeks into a smile, stepping forward and placing the jewelry set he'd taken in a space between the baskets. 

"... Sorry," he mumbled, "I forgot I was - holding it."

Byulyi laughed again, waving off the gesture kindly. "It's alright," she said, "I'm glad he's taking care of you." She began to punch in the items, moving quickly as she scanned them — almost too fast, Hwanwoong noticed. 

Keonhee and Dongju pulled them away, leaving Geonhak to briefly help put up the baskets higher onto the counter. 

Youngjo swiveled around to them, smiling mildly. 

"These should be the last few stores before we get you guys your phones. Go and buy whatever you want for yourselves. You can get journals and stationery or books over there by the bookstore," he said. "And there are candles two stores over. There's a cute department store just next to that. It's more for personal things. Don't be shy to buy what you want, we'll stay by you."

Keonhee dashed towards the bookstore, running past the people and pushing Hwanwoong in front of him as he did so, making the latter stumble slightly — before relenting and laughing, rushing through the figures and letting a smile spread across his features. Seoho waited a beat before following them, the three becoming a blur of energy as they traversed the distance and looked back to see Youngjo, Geonhak, and Dongju following them with mirth dancing in their eyes, matching their pace. 

They came to a pause at the bookstore, uncaring of the questioning glances sent their way as Hwanwoong's eyes scanned quickly through the shelves. When he'd stopped, he smiled somehow even wider, and he walked to the rows of journals in the middle of the store. Seoho had found his own niche of books nearly immediately, rushing to the library and opening one of the samples there, flipping it to a random page and quickly taking in the images on the paper. 

Keonhee stood next to Youngjo for a moment, watching him watch them, letting themselves steep in hope and possibility. He let the air lighten, dimming the sounds and the chaos of everything that wasn't the six of them. He let himself see the promise form, the threads lock together, the wisps form into a cloud that hung over their sky and colored their ground. 

(Keonhee gazed at Youngjo and his coven, honest in their selflessness, and he turned to his own. He saw his coven, formed under the night and under suffocating tendrils, and he found the light that he'd seen all those years ago flare and burn.)

Then, he gave Youngjo a playful shove and walked over to the assortments of pens, fiddling with the funnily-shaped caps and squealing in terror when he found one that was crafted into a pigeon. 

•────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅────•

Hwanwoong was staring at the journals, thumbing at the spines of them, hearing the crinkle of plastic coverings. He nudged a journal out, letting the viridian cover fall into his hands. He flipped it about, pushing down on the surface lightly. It was bare, the green color plain, only shining slightly. There was an elastic wrapping around the journal, and through the cover he prodded at it, moving it left and right. It collided with the pen they had combined in the packaging, a sleek black casing of ink that tapered into a thin rod. The tag on the back read that the pages were lined and dotted, and though he wasn’t horribly familiar with the latter, the diagrams made him enthusiastic. He saw a spread of images appear behind his eyes and he clutched tighter to the journal. 

He’d missed it. He’d missed the feeling of ink on his palms, splatters of dye coloring his fingers dirty. He could recall the feeling of quills held in shaking hands, spewing nonsense on rejected parchment. He remembered the years of thoughts placed onto cotton, burned when he moved once more through the woods and ambled along, cluelessly following a figure. 

It had been a sense of normalcy. A sense of being somewhere, of the feeling of scratching parchment sliding along his fingers. He had been able to condense his thoughts onto paper and read it, ground himself in a present, stop and breathe for a moment. While trees had risen around him, he’d been able to tear it down and hold it in his hands, keeping it still and yielding while he felt the earth give way underneath him.

He chuckled wetly, bringing it close to his chest, fidgeting with the pen as he shut his eyes and remembered a hand reaching for him, making him drop burning coal onto bark. He thought about a curious gaze, about a soft voice holding him still while his fingers scratched and tensed, talons ripping into soil. He remembered running and being caught. He smelled parchment and ink. He remembered them being suddenly handed to him; he felt the memory of understanding.

He heard Seoho step close to him and Keonhee crouch in front of him. He had dropped onto the floor, sobbing lightly as he bit his lips into a smile. He hadn’t realized. 

Seoho was smiling at him, voice quiet. “You like that one?” he asked. 

Hwanwoong swallowed and nodded vigorously, not trusting his voice. 

“I’m sure Youngjo hyung will buy it for you, Woong,” Keonhee said. His eyes were shining with tears and from a few steps away, Youngjo once more felt that thrall, the threat of breaking a promise he had never uttered. 

Youngjo didn’t care — he just wanted to make them happy. If it was a journal, if it was a hundred, if it was the stars themselves — he would raze valleys.

Anything to make sure that the only tears he would see would be the ones he saw then, unbidden in their joy as the weight of the world released itself from Hwanwoong’s shoulders and shadows disappeared into white mist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehehe :') I'm rather proud of the latter part of this. a little sneak peak into some ~backstory~ and some more fun and touching times at the mall!!  
> (the boys are going to kcon:tact! hope I can watch them ;;;; )  
> and yes, there will be some cameos from other artists here, but they don't really take on big roles! I just look for fitting people to put into the story ;;  
> and again — if you're here, hi! thank you so much for reading (^^) !! I hope you liked this chapter, as I'm rather fond of it. Please leave some comments and kudos if you liked it, and I hope you're having an amazing day today!


	16. sixteen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi!!! another chapter :') as always, this is unbeta-ed and so there may be errors! I hope you enjoy this one!

Youngjo was reminded, briefly, of what Dongju looked like the first time they had celebrated Christmas.

He’d looked heartbroken and hopeful all at once. The fledgling had realized in one shattering moment that there were simple joys and overwhelming laughter, and that he'd never felt either of those things. 

Dongju had told Youngjo what had happened only when tears sprang into the young vampire’s eyes, Youngjo never asking for more but letting the confessions fall from Dongju's lips. The child had whispered how winter had simply been cold, doors slammed and snow falling. The mere fact that it hadn't needed to be that — Dongju felt thankful and envious in the same breath, green with jealousy and yet still transparent in the way he filled with thoughts of what the future could bring him.

Hwanwoong's tears seemed the same. Years of exhaustion appeared in the line of his shoulders and crumbled as Keonhee pulled Hwanwoong close. Keonhee’s smile quivered, crying at the sight of his coven mate threading together in his hands, but _smiling_. Seoho was sitting on the floor of the bookstore with them, legs crossed and uncaring of the stares that passers-by gave them. He was transfixed on the drops of anguish that cascaded down Hwanwoong’s cheeks. He brushed them away, holding Hwanwoong’s face up and looking at him gently. Hwanwoong was shaking. Wet sounds of chuckles reached Youngjo’s ears, and once more he felt something fall into place. 

(Something like home. Somewhat broken, somewhat hidden, but it was his to take care of and theirs to make.)

Youngjo recognized the sensation of hackles rising, a thrum of energy that Seoho hissed through the air as a burst of protectiveness surged for his coven. Youngjo felt himself flinch from the force of it. A sour feeling settled on his tongue as his own devotion to his family made him reel, but he pushed it roughly down.

He reminded himself of the sight of pinprick red eyes and bared fangs, of blood spilt over verdant, and he thought about how that had never gone away — how he was the same. 

Seoho was unabashedly letting ripples of caution flow through the store, not quite dangerous, but Geonhak and Dongju both noticed how people started to ignore them. Hwanwoong was hiccuping now, rubbing at his eyes and attempting a smile, hair falling over his face as Seoho pulled him up. Hwanwoong laced his arm around Seoho, hiding in the folds of Seoho’s shirt as the bandaged arm clutched at the journal in his hands. 

Youngjo stepped closer to them, prepared for the wave of warning air that pulsed from Seoho as he did so. He held his hand out slowly, and when Seoho's eyes dropped from him back to Hwanwoong, Youngjo gently threaded his fingers through Hwanwoong's hair. 

"Do you want to get more than one?" he asked, voice soft and quiet. Hwanwoong's head nodded under his palm and he smiled. "Which ones do you like?"

Hwanwoong breathed in deeply. Youngjo felt his chest squeeze when he saw Hwanwoong pull away from Seoho and shine his features under the light. His dark eyes were puffy and pink, shining with the remnants of tears. He was flushed a slight red, cheeks and lips colored ever so darker.

But he was smiling, and his eyes betrayed light and hope and beauty and everything that Youngjo had always wanted to be able to give. 

"I'll try," Hwanwoong started, voice cracking with emotion, "To pick some out. I might just - ask Keonhee to get some."

Youngjo looked at Keonhee, who was still crying in empathy, looking decidedly at Hwanwoong and puffing his cheeks, restraining the comfort that sought to explode within him. 

"I'll get you so many journals, Woong," Keonhee hiccuped. "You'll _sleep_ on them. A bed of them." 

Seoho dropped the cautioning aura and air rushed back into the vacuum that was left. He was smiling, though they could see the whispers of water in his eyes as he dropped his head. 

Geonhak and Dongju stepped closer, the fledgling unsure as he approached, unsteady from the rush of adrenaline from Seoho’s commanding presence that had dissipated. Geonhak was more confident as he offered Seoho a shy smile, exhaling deeply when Seoho understood and let Geonhak embrace Hwanwoong. 

“I’ll get hyung some water,” Dongju murmured, not willing to raise his voice from a whisper. Hwanwoong shook his head, but Dongju was already off, leaving the bookstore and walking to a food stall. 

By the time he had returned, they had settled once more, the four crowding Hwanwoong as he chuckled and wiped away the remnants of his tears. Dongju handed him the water and Hwanwoong thanked him. Just before he went to stand beside Geonhak, Dongju offered Hwanwoong a hug and the shorter man accepted, letting Dongju slot Hwanwoong’s head into the crook of the younger’s neck. 

It felt nice. Hwanwoong was warm, and whatever fear Dongju had of Hwanwoong’s coven he realized was only because of his youth. It was caused only by the ease with which the world could still make him buckle his knees. 

Dongju wasn't afraid of Hwanwoong, not of Keonhee or Seoho. 

(It was fast, and it caught him unaware, but the moment of seeing them there — bare and afraid but unafraid to be scared — he’d felt himself fall into their orbit.)

“All of this over a journal, huh?” Hwanwoong said as Dongju let go of him, and he sounded less shaky now. Keonhee glared at him.

“So what if it’s over a journal,” Keonhee retorted. His expression was serious, frowning and yet still pouting.

Hwanwoong looked at him and laughed. The vampire opened the water bottle, drinking it down and washing away the exhaustion that had filled him. 

“I need to stop surprising you guys,” Hwanwoong sighed out. “First that whole purring thing and now this. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Dongju told him, and Youngjo and Geonhak turned to look at the youngest of their coven. They knew what he was going to say before it left his lips.

“I understand,” Dongju said.

Hwanwoong paused for a moment. 

Wasn’t that exactly what they had for one another — understanding? 

Wasn’t that the one thing that kept convincing Hwanwoong to stay? Because he’d decided already, he’d promised Keonhee and Seoho to rest and to stay put. That he would breathe and let them take him by the hands again. But it was Youngjo and his coven that convinced him to _stay._ To fall asleep in those rooms and to stand under the mist of a shower. To let himself breathe, because Seoho and Keonhee were family, they were his only one, and he was so fixated on taking care of them that he’d stopped taking care of himself. 

Hwanwoong always saw the differences, the ways that they had been touched differently by Selene and her light, Luna staring down at them and blessing them with all the spreads and waves of her magic. It was contrast; black and white, fire and water, old and new. They had been mirrors. Similar but in a way that Hwanwoong had somehow convinced himself as _opposite,_ still. Reflected, slightly askew, a few points off from being the truth.

He’d realized, then, that he didn’t know enough about them to make that judgement.

Maybe they weren’t mirror images. Mirrors were always deemed as something inane, something that wasn’t true, a lie condensed into crystal, skewed by your mind in ways that wasn’t really _real._ But that wasn’t them. 

They were just sand. Falling through the cracks and burnt by the sun, fragile and similar and identical because at their very core they were just the same — hurt and yet stronger because of it. They were glass. Shattered and put back together. 

They fit. Small fractures filled empty divots. They didn't make space. It had been there before and it had taken them blood and tears before they could hold themselves. Still, they just fit.

They _understood._

And Hwanwoong knew understanding. He knew Seoho and Keonhee as familiarly as he knew the seconds it took before night fell and the sun rose. He knew Seoho's darkness, the visions of flames and the ringing in his ears. He knew Keonhee's heart, heavy and full but weighed. 

He didn't know Dongju or Geonhak or Youngjo, not as much as he knew his coven. And yet Geonhak and Dongju understood, and Youngjo did too in the way only he seemed to be able to. 

(They all saw the motions turn in Hwanwoong’s eyes, didn’t ask in the silence that they recognized, because they understood.)

"Thank you," Hwanwoong said, bowing, smiling. "I haven't thanked you yet but I really am grateful.”

"Don't worry about it," Youngjo replied, still soft. 

"We should continue buying your things," Geonhak told them. His voice wasn't urgent at all, just suggesting as an announcement overhead rang for the last few hours of the mall. 

Keonhee nodded, setting off with purpose towards a tall display of journals. Some were similar to the one Hwanwoong was already holding while others were more intricate, even going so far as to have gilding on one which Keonhee eagerly grabbed. Hwanwoong laughed at the sight before turning to Youngjo sheepishly. 

Youngjo brushed off the unspoken apology with a smile, laying his hand gently on Hwanwoong's uninjured shoulder. 

Youngjo was still smiling when he said, "I'll remind Keonhee to buy stuff for himself. Go and look around and see if there's anything else you like."

Hwanwoong swung Dongju's and Seoho's hands as they looked for books. 

Seoho's gaze was focused on the titles of various research journals, eyes slightly wide and lips downturned in thought. Hwanwoong pulled out random books and then showed Dongju the contents at times, mostly just letting the fledgling be. 

Dongju was content in watching the other two, letting himself circle them. They felt welcome. Hwanwoong’s fingers locked loosely around his wrist were comfortable and gentle, and Dongju moved their hands to clasp fingers. Hwanwoong turned to him when he did and smiled softly, and Dongju smiled in return. Seoho would show Hwanwoong images and then offer Dongju a passage to read, smiling brightly and words smoothly rolling over unfamiliar terms. 

Circling the bookstore resulted in four books from Seoho and a handful of markers; an assortment of organizers courtesy of Geonhak; miscellaneous charms that Youngjo picked out for everyone; Dongju's ream of papers; Keonhee's stack of notebooks, pens, and stationery; and Hwanwoong's journal and writing materials.

Youngjo paid for everything, and Keonhee went over to him.

"You know," Keonhee said, "I didn't think you were _that_ serious when Dongju said you could buy a mall."

Youngjo laughed. "Technically, I could buy one on a _bad_ year," he replied, and Keonhee's eyes went comically wide. 

"What even _is_ your family? I know Purebloods are usually a lot more deep-seated in workings so there's lots of sources but yours just sounds absurd," Keonhee mumbled. 

"Lots of Kim clans have vampire lineage," Youngjo answered. Keonhee gave it some thought and then shrugged.

"I guess I've heard of quite a few Lee families with vampires too."

Youngjo hummed. "Are you and Seoho related, by the way?"

As Keonhee handed the last journal to Geonhak for passing to the cashier, he shook his head. "Nope. Different clans. Mine's half-blood as far as they can remember except the first, obviously," he said.

Youngjo winced slightly at the discovery. "Rough start in the old age, then?" Thankfully, Keonhee just seemed amused. 

"Wasn't everything in the old age rough for us?" Keonhee said. From behind him, Seoho paused his chatting with Dongju and laughed.

The cashier stored away the bags per Youngjo's request, though Hwanwoong shyly asked if he could carry the journal with him. Youngjo easily allowed it, asking for a bag and letting Hwanwoong gently place the notebook inside. Hwanwoong slid the bag onto his arm and smiled up at Youngjo, expression bright, and again Youngjo saw the hope there, blooming through layers of exhaustion. 

For a moment, Youngjo had worried. Had he put them through too much in too little time? Hwanwoong seemed to be caught up in a tangle of thoughts everywhere they went. The smile appeased those thoughts easily, melting them into confidence. 

He calmed further when he heard Dongju gently ask if Hwanwoong wanted to go buy candles or if he wanted to just rest and buy ice cream. Hwanwoong answered that he'd like to look at the candles, seemingly excited at the prospect of fragrant wax. Youngjo laughed to himself, reminding himself of those years of Dongju and Geonhak ambling along blindly beside him. He'd almost forgotten how much they were similar. 

"Alright. I hope the candles aren't going to be too emotional, Woongie?" Seoho teased, and Hwanwoong whacked him softly with his journal — most likely lightened for the journal's sake.

"Shut up," Hwanwoong hissed, blushing. Everyone chuckled at him and Youngjo gave him a playful pat on the head. 

"Fierce little tiger, aren't you?" Youngjo said, and he laughed freely when he felt the barely-there touch of the journal through his clothes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, chanting: bonding time, bonding time (and mutual understanding/empathy!!!!)  
> :'))) I hope you enjoyed this chapter!!! As always, feedback is much appreciated. Feel free to talk to me in the comments either way!  
> Also I just noticed that it's been 2 months of me updating this, and I would just like to say thank you so much for the support !!! idk all of you but your support is still perceived ! Thank you for reading, leaving comments, and giving some kudos! I hope to bring even better content and that you all enjoy this story further ;;;


	17. seventeen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!! another chapter unbeta-ed. I hope this one is enjoyable!!

The candle store was less eventful, but Keonhee found it was just as important to him. They had paid for the clothes and then swiftly turned to the candle store, greeted by perfumes and the sight of intricate wood. 

He stuck by Hwanwoong’s side, overjoyed at the sight of the smaller vampire smelling the arrays of candles, picking them up and reading the labels before easily placing the scents himself. He reveled in the small corrections Hwanwoong made, muttering something about them labeling the wood scent wrong, or how they should flip the arrangement of the name because, “The peppermint is stronger, why did they put it last?”

Keonhee smiled at Hwanwoong, appreciating the way he could see the other gradually settle. 

Hwanwoong was easy-going — but only if you were. Hwanwoong was odd, he’d learnt, in that he copied you. Not in a way that he hid himself, but in the way that his eyes would only shine if he saw you do the same. An eye for an eye, Hwanwoong had told Keonhee when he’d first met them, young enough and yet more severe, the words a threat rather than a statement.

And so Keonhee wasn’t surprised to see so much of Hwanwoong on display. Hwanwoong was smiling, eyes bright and fingers playing with the wicks of candles. Hwanwoong had always had a keener sense of smell than Keonhee, though perhaps it was more the familiarity to more things than Keonhee had. Hwanwoong was easily listing off the scents of various hardwoods, with occasional input from Seoho and Youngjo, fascinating Dongju enough to the point that Dongju seemed to be gathering a collection of candles purely based off of what Hwanwoong told him he remembered. 

After obtaining a small hill of candle jars which was once more left for later acquisition and delivery of Yonghoon, they set off to buy the phones and — with Geonhak’s suggestion — some laptops they could occupy themselves with. Keonhee felt like a charity case. He didn’t find that he minded much. 

It was an odd visual, surrounded by blues and silvers and those films they'd used to watch about the future. There were less robots, though that could be debatable. Hwanwoong stood at the entrance, taking it all in as Seoho went to the phone displays, leaving Keonhee to walk over to the laptops, reading through the labels printed across them. He didn't know much about what graphics cards were or which ones were best, but he thought the devices looked pretty. They felt rough, in the way he felt the ridges from moments of laser heat and the tang of metal cutting into metal. The glass felt fragile under his fingers, easily bent if he wanted to try, the material prepared to give under his ministrations if he attempted it. He let go of it and went to Dongju, asking the fledgling what laptops were nice and if there was anything he suggested for him to get. Dongju pushed him gently towards a small drawer setup, and Keonhee let himself be pushed towards it, smiling at the warm contact of Dongju’s hand on his back. 

Hwanwoong made a point to look for phones with good cameras, an employee pointing him kindly in the right direction, Hwanwoong's expression turning perplexed at the sight of a trio of lenses. He shyly asked the woman why it was like that, voice pitching near unheard. Keonhee noticed she had a hearing aid and her eyes were trained on Hwanwoong's lips, and he wasn't surprised when she understood what Hwanwoong had whispered easily. Hwanwoong looked at her, taken aback, but listened attentively as she happily explained it to him, and Hwanwoong’s eyes widened as he looked at the phone, turning it over and under in his hands.

Keonhee remembered when Hwanwoong had borrowed a film camera once, the wonder spreading in his eyes. Keonhee truly did think that Hwanwoong deserved to be younger than him, to have the wonder that he had reflected in flesh. But time had chosen to be unkind to him, and so had Helios, and Keonhee always wanted to keep the other safe.

Seoho was joined by Geonhak in browsing through the laptops, Geonhak discreetly advising him to get a gaming PC. Youngjo laughed and turned back to the counter, waiting for the worker to hand back his tablet. When he put it back into his bag, he heard Hwanwoong stepping towards him, and when Youngjo looked at him, the younger smiled and called him. Youngjo chuckled in reply and met him in the middle, quirking his brows. 

"Which one is better?" Hwanwoong asked, holding up two different phones. They were both familiar to Youngjo and he was pleased when he'd realized Hwanwoong had finally stopped fixating on the price tag. 

"What do you want to use it for?" Youngjo asked in return. "This one," Youngjo said, holding the back of Hwanwoong's left hand gently as a gesture, "Is faster for taking pictures. It has lots of features for capturing, some people use it for cinematography." He tapped Hwanwoong's right hand. "This one is less accurate picture-wise but it's faster when you want to multitask _. _ They're honestly practically the same with pictures if you ask me. The color is just slightly off for this but nothing unfixable," Youngjo finished, tapping the phone on the right again. 

Hwanwoong nodded energetically after Youngjo finished, going back to the employee and returning the phone from his left hand to her. She smiled at him and bowed, and he bowed politely in return before treading softly towards Youngjo. 

"Got it!" Hwanwoong cheered mutedly, clutching the phone in a gentle but secure grip as his journal dangled from his arm. 

Youngjo gently reached out to him, allowing for Hwanwoong to move away, and when the younger didn't, he laid a hand on Hwanwoong's shoulder and soothed the skin there. Hwanwoong didn't comment and blinked amiably. 

"Laptop?" Youngjo inquired, and Hwanwoong shrugged softly, careful with his shoulder still. 

"I don't know much about them," Hwanwoong admitted. "As long as I can do… whatever, I guess."

Youngjo grinned. "Look over here, these are some of the nicer models."

Hwanwoong followed him diligently but didn't seem to have much of an opinion, just asking if he could maybe get one that would let him watch something on it, and so Youngjo bought him something with a wider display, much to Hwanwoong's excitement.

"They need phone cases!" Dongju interjected as Seoho put down the bright red gaming laptop Geonhak had been urging him to buy.

"There are some outside," the cashier supplied, "You can walk to the right and there's some from the brands themselves. To the left are the more custom ones."

They thanked him and then Youngjo once more asked for them to store away the laptops, and the man didn't seem entirely too fazed. It made Keonhee wonder how often this happened, but he didn’t ask, elated at the fact that he had a phone and a SIM card instead.

They went to the stalls off to the left, completely forgoing the official cases after Dongju had commented that, "They're really not that cute at all." 

As they drew closer to it, Youngjo waved at the pair manning the shop. They waved back enthusiastically, the thinner and taller of the two standing up and beaming. 

Hwanwoong noticed they weren't human either, distinctly scented like grass and fungus, and he saw the small beads of glowing stars that fluttered around the pair. Faintly, as he crushed the light in his eyes, he saw their wings. San and Wooyoung, their tags read. Pixies. 

San's hair shimmered, refracting the light obviously, iridescent without shame. Wooyoung’s hair was dark, nearly inexplicably so, falling in vines of voids across his forehead and falling into the edges of his lips. Their smiles were sharp, teeth flat but almost too perfectly so, and Hwanwoong had become familiar enough with concealment to understand that they were doing the same. 

There was nothing sinister about them, though. Youngjo approached them and they pattered around the stall noisily, greeting him and immediately lining the glass case with an assortment of boxes and cases they took from cabinets. 

"Three new kids!" San cheered happily, placing a navy box down. 

"They're older than you," Geonhak said, and San laughed. When none of the others followed him, he stopped and looked at them with wide eyes. 

" _ Really? _ " he asked, genuinely disbelieving. When Dongju nodded, San just nodded in return and put his hand out. Wooyoung finished arranging the cases and turned to them happily as well. 

"Hi. I'm Wooyoung, that's San. Pixies. You probably know," Wooyoung said, greeting them as well. Both their arms were outstretched, and Hwanwoong and Keonhee both greeted them first, leaving Seoho looking at them oddly but kindly. 

“We go around the mall,” San began, comfortable as he continued taking out and arranging the variety of phone cases they had and putting them on the counter. Dongju was looking through the array already, and Youngjo was briefly sneaking glances at the designs the two were picking out but still opting to listen. “And work and stuff. We tend to stick closer to humans because — well, we’re a little different from you, I guess? Our coven’s got a couple of different folk, but our primus is a witch, so he’s sort of okay. We’re a little more reliant. But of course  _ vampire _ stuff is a lot more iffy with humans. We work here because of Seonghwa, though, and he’s a vampire. He knows Youngjo pretty well!” San finished, putting down a seemingly final cluster of phone cases.

Hwanwoong stared wordlessly, surprised by the sudden information. He’d known pixies to be energetic, but this seemed more like a  _ San _ thing than a pixie thing. 

“He’s really noisy,” Wooyoung snickered, pointing conspiratorially at San. “It’s from a good place though, don’t worry.” 

“Here,” San said, softening considerably at the sight of a stricken Hwanwoong. Keonhee seemed unfazed, in fact slightly enjoying the moment. Seoho was smiling politely, though he didn’t reply. 

San pushed forward a set of phone cases, simple blocks of color. “These are some pretty universal designs we have, but since we haven’t really asked you what phones you got, just think about what colors you like.”

Hwanwoong looked at him and smiled gratefully, whispering his thanks before looking through the colors. There were dark and light spreads, and Hwanwoong found himself tapping absently at a few. Wooyoung picked up on it and smiled as he asked what model Hwanwoong’s phone was. Hwanwoong opened his mouth to answer before drawing a blank. His brows furrowed together in thought but he couldn’t recall, the details too foreign, so he called Youngjo and asked as he held up the phone. Youngjo helpfully told Wooyoung what model Hwanwoong had chosen and then also supplied what he’d gotten for Seoho and Keonhee. Wooyoung turned to the drawers and displays and brought some down, separating it from the pile and smiling jovially at Hwanwoong.

“Here’s some of the cases we have for your phone,” Wooyoung said, as San did the same across him for Keonhee and Seoho. Dongju had taken out a small wad of bills and paid San in the meanwhile, looking content as he held the case in his hands; Hwanwoong seeing the vague design of white geometry on light blues, pinks, and purples. 

Hwanwoong looked at the designs in front of him, making vague sounds of interest at them until one caught his attention. He was filled with the sudden urge to claim it, hand quickly swiping at it and then sheepishly looking at the toothy grin Wooyoung gave him. He looked back down at the case in his hands and smiled, adoring the two cats protruding from the background of a night sky, amused by the sunglasses the two felines donned. When he did so, another design attracted his eyes. It was the scenery of a green sunset on a blue canvas. He held it as well, and suddenly he found himself snapping them onto his —  _ his _ — phone. Yet another ended up in a cluster Hwanwoong was quickly cultivating as his. Seoho and Keonhee were choosing between three each, looking at Hwanwoong with quirked brows and smiles.

By the end of it, Hwanwoong had picked the first two cases and an additional two, one being a clear, hard pink case filled with water and glittering leaves that fell in rivulets within. The other was an intricate pattern of almost lace but emulated in careful metalwork. San and Wooyoung looked pleased and amused, conversing among themselves and the group. 

"Should we punch these in?" San asked, and Youngjo nodded, taking out his card and handing it to him.

"How much have you spent on your new kids?" Wooyoung attempted to whisper, though he seemed to realize he hadn't muted himself enough if his wince was anything to go by. 

"One's older than  _ me," _ Youngjo whispered back, still audible. 

Wooyoung laughed and then handed Youngjo his receipt. They boxed the cases cleanly into a small bag, comfortably laying it in Seoho's palm. 

As they walked away, Seoho could feel San's stare on them and he turned around to bow to him. He saw the shimmer flare into life, casting a halo of wings around the two of them as San smiled. 

“Is adopting people  _ that _ common for you?” Keonhee asked when Seoho looked back to the front of the group. 

“No," Dongju answered, "He just went overboard for me and Geonhak hyung and now everyone around him is endeared and confused by him.”

They all laughed at that, unsurprised at the sentiment. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heheh. just some chill times with some cameos! :')   
> As always, I love hearing from you guys! feel free to leave any type of comment down below if you want to. I hope you're doing well!!


	18. eighteen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello again!!! as always, this chapter is unedited and unbeta-ed. i hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

Walking back to the forest was an excitable affair. Keonhee quickly began to fiddle with the phone in his hands, playing with the case around it as Keonhee happily felt the texture. Seoho was looking through the various applications, opening the messaging app and quickly asking for their numbers, grinning as he wrote them down and attached nicknames to them.

Hwanwoong kept the phone in the bag with his journal, thumbing over it at times as they walked. They didn’t talk about much, but they did talk a lot. Keonhee had always been prone to rambling on, and the same happened as he asked question after question about the phone, elated at all of the things they had added in the span of a few decades. Seoho was more silent in the way he explored the device, quietly tapping away but smiling and making small sounds of curiosity as something chimed. Geonhak, Dongju, and Youngjo were all patient as they answered questions, looking more entertained than anything else. 

Hwanwoong heard the whirlwind appear before he saw it, and he felt the electricity in the air as it happened. He swiveled towards the source of the sound, seeing the flutters of leaves rise from the ground and drape into a shadow as the sun continued sinking. He wanted to charge at it, heart jumping in his chest, feeling his eyes flash and the fire burn behind them. 

But the sight of the witch from the mall — Yonghoon — calmed him, reminded him that this was  _ safe, _ somehow.

He hadn’t seen teleportation spells from outside before. It was graceful, the way that lines etched themselves onto the ground and then rose in glowing pillars, forming shapes in the air and then falling to make place for what hadn’t been there. Yonghoon was joined by the other man he’d seen, the slighter, airier atmosphere forming around him. There were an array of bags at their feet and some floating in the air, held aloft by vortices of purple magic.

Hwanwoong gently reached for Seoho’s hand, and the older vampire let him hold his fingers as he crushed them ever so slightly, coming down from the high of adrenaline. He felt Seoho do the same to Keonhee. 

Yonghoon turned to them, smiling brightly. “Hi, again,” he greeted. He nudged his companion to greet as well, who inclined his head silently. 

“Hi, I’m Hyungu,” the man said, and Hwanwoong noticed the gentle shimmer in his eyes of crimson, a scarlet glow inside of dark brown irises. 

“We have your stuff,” Yonghoon added, floating the bags and even Seoho’s metal contraption towards them, loftily held in the air as Yonghoon gestured vaguely with his hands. Seoho circled the floating items, touching them and delighting as they bounced as if they were in water. 

“Are Dongmyeong and the others teleporting in as well?” Dongju asked Hyungu, and Hyungu hummed a vague sound as he looked towards Hwanwoong’s coven.

“Are they okay with new people? Yonghoon hyung forgot to warn them and I think one of them panicked,” Hyungu said. 

Hwanwoong looked away at the mention of him, slightly embarrassed.

“Let’s text them not to come through yet. We’ll just help them set up their things,” Yonghoon suggested, briefly sneaking an apologetic glance at Hwanwoong. Hwanwoong caught it and waved it away, ducking his head as well. 

The sight of the house broke through the foliage and Youngjo walked ahead of them, turning on the lights on the porch. It bathed the house in that same light that Seoho and Keonhee had seen just a few nights ago. 

(Somehow, it was warmer now.)

Youngjo asked Yonghoon and Hyungu to place the bags on the table or the floor, and they glided softly downwards, a small thunk resounding as Yonghoon rotated his wrist in circles. 

“We’ll take our leave?” Yonghoon asked, smiling at Youngjo and Hwanwoong, but his eyes were still slightly glazed with self-admonishment. 

“If you want to stay, why not?” Seoho spoke up from where he was grabbing the folding minimalist contraption he’d gotten. Keonhee made a sound of agreement, and Hwanwoong did as well after a beat. 

“It’s really okay! We know you’re new here, we don’t want to interfere with your adjustment,” Yonghoon said. His voice was colored with hope, though.

“It’s alright!” Keonhee said happily. “We need to get used to other people anyway. We get too antsy, so sorry if we freak a bit, but it’s good practice.”

Yonghoon smiled wider. “Can we… can the others come, then?” 

Hwanwoong took a look at Yonghoon; at Youngjo, smiling and accommodating; at Seoho and Keonhee; at Dongju, who looked away when Hwanwoong did, too late to hide the small bead of yearning he’d had. Hwanwoong remembered Dongju’s brother, and it didn’t take much time at all to recognize the homesickness in the other’s eyes for another familiar face.

“Of course,” Hwanwoong said, and Yonghoon’s bright grin made magic flutter around them in a cascade of flowers. Keonhee laughed at the sight of them, plucking them from the air and placing them in their hair and ears.

•────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅────•

Hwanwoong realized that he’d forgotten how to shut off his brain over the decades. 

It was loud — almost overwhelmingly so. Not purposefully, given the five pointedly hushed voices that he heard throughout the house. He’d simply become so used to the danger of the sky above them and the ground under him that calming himself took more effort than being afraid. 

Hyungu had messaged his coven and after a few minutes of Hwanwoong, Seoho, and Keonhee bringing whatever they bought into their rooms with Geonhak and Yonghoon’s help, they’d heard a knock on the door and someone shushing two other voices. Dongju had been the one to open the door, swiftly greeted by an embrace and a wide smile from someone that looked like him. Two other people appeared behind Dongmyeong, excited but accommodating as they introduced themselves to Hwanwoong and his coven. It was easy to place what Harin and Giwook were, the lingering vestiges of their magic clinging to them. A werewolf and another witch. It wasn’t a challenge to understand their comfort in human spaces now. 

Their presence was near suffocating in the beginning, Hwanwoong, Seoho, and Keonhee so used to their air of solitude under watchful nights as rain fell from the heavens and made them shiver. There was the blanket of spring wrapping around the five, lighter than even Youngjo and Geonhak and Dongju. (Helios had always had his prejudices, after all.)

Hwanwoong saw Dongju chattier than ever, laughter loud and boisterous and honest. Youngjo could act mischievously, letting Yonghoon fuss over him as if Youngjo were younger. Geonhak’s voice never rose, but his voice was a constant litany of words and nonsense as he talked to Harin and Hyungu. Dongmyeong and Giwook reveled in each other’s aura, Hwanwoong seeing the wisps of it mingle as the two talked happily to one another.

Hwanwoong and Seoho fixed their room, excusing themselves swiftly, though not impolitely. They smiled as they crossed through the hallways, bringing out their things from the bags. Seoho had never been someone to clean things, but Hwanwoong didn’t mind doing it alone, finding the act of organizing calming as he used it to mute the sounds of rumbling voices outside. Keonhee followed them a minute after, only staying behind a moment to ask for phone numbers from the guests and rejoicing at the wifi password Youngjo gave him. The door opening let in the stream of warily hushed voices, making Hwanwoong freeze for a fraction, before he eased and continued laying their clothing in piles in the closet. Keonhee noticed, as he always did, and gave Hwanwoong a gentle embrace before setting down his phone and helping.

They roughly filled their cabinets with their newly-bought belongings, Hwanwoong piling candles in neat rows on the shelves. Keonhee used the hangers already in the closet to hang up the coats and jackets they had bought, singing softly as he arranged them into clusters of color. Seoho went into the bathroom with a bag of the items from the pharmacy. The three shower balls hung from his fingers languidly and swayed as he walked. Through the ticking clock, they heard the murmur of life outside of their room, and Hwanwoong felt his hands go cold and begin sweating. He wiped them on his pants, huffing in a breath, grabbing one of the journals Keonhee bought for him, placing it on the shelf, and then sitting down silently on the floor. 

He felt Keonhee pat his head before the taller vampire sat down next to him.

“Too much?” Keonhee asked, voice barely a whisper. Hwanwoong hummed slightly. Keonhee once more wrapped his arms around Hwanwoong.

“Want your ring?” he asked again. Hwanwoong shook his head and just laid on top of Keonhee for a moment. Keonhee pouted but didn’t persist further. Then, Hwanwoong crawled over to one of the bags and plucked out the jewelry set he’d chosen. 

He took them out, laid them in his hands, and then held them in between his palms. He felt the metal dig lightly into his flesh and he breathed in deeply. He closed his eyes, let the cool touch of the gems spread through his fingers, the electricity of silver settle on his skin.

He opened his eyes after a dozen and more seconds, unclasping his hands and looking at the faint rose gold shimmer that colored the precious metals. He looked at them blankly for a moment before smiling and placing them back into the case.

Keonhee laid the box down on the bedside cabinet, reaching it easily and putting it out of Hwanwoong’s reach. Then, he thinned his lips and hugged Hwanwoong again, one of his hands rummaging through the same bag. He pulled out a cluster of earrings. 

"Here. I thought you wouldn't actually buy any accessories for yourself and... I was right, so."

Keonhee knew him too well, Hwanwoong thought. He tried one of the pairs on, letting Keonhee judge how it looked, and he felt himself smile at the easy satisfaction Keonhee portrayed. “It looks great!” Keonhee told him, and Hwanwoong trusted him.

Seoho finished placing the things in the bathroom and balanced Hwanwoong’s hair dye on top of his head when he exited. “Do you want to go out and talk to them later on or are you not up for it?” Seoho asked. 

“Are you?” Hwanwoong asked, and Seoho threw the question back at him, a parroting, “Are  _ you _ ?” and Keonhee interjected with his own echo, and then they were all laughing at each other’s stupidity, a circle of reiteration. 

“I think I  _ want _ to. They seem like good people, and Youngjo trusts them, obviously,” Hwanwoong answered finally. 

Keonhee agreed, adding, “Also, forming covens like that is usually really cooperative. It’s hard to function otherwise.”

Seoho, ever the eclectic person he was, said, “I wonder if Harin and Dongmyeong fight just to fit the stereotype. They seem the type.”

They laughed at the image and then began getting up. Hwanwoong took the jewelry box as they walked out into the hallway, sound pouring into their ears once more. Hwanwoong rubbed at his ears gently and winced, and he heard the subsequent hushing as the door clicked into place. They walked quietly towards the dining room, Hwanwoong fiddling with the box in his hands. 

When the other eight appeared, they all smiled amicably at Hwanwoong and his coven. He waved at them, walking closer to Youngjo and feeling awkward under the silence. 

“I wanted to give these to your coven,” Hwanwoong said, whispering. He was smiling still, but bashfulness colored his face. 

Youngjo’s eyes widened and he quirked his brows. “You… made us buy something for ourselves?” Youngjo asked. 

“Dibs on the ring,” Dongju said quickly, pleased with himself. Geonhak cuffed him lightly on the head in scolding.

"Think of it as me giving you a sentimental gift for now," Hwanwoong told him. Youngjo grinned again, though he was still slightly confused.

Seoho quickly added, “He added a little something anyways — I think you’ll like it," eyes drifting to Yonghoon and Giwook slightly. 

“Okay then. Thank you,” Youngjo said, opening the box, exposing the accessories inside.

Yonghoon peered over at it curiously after he did so. “Are those charmed?” Yonghoon asked, looking at Hwanwoong briefly in surprise. Hwanwoong nodded, shrugging. “You know how to do enchantments?” Yonghoon asked again, seemingly in awe. 

“I got taught by someone I knew a while back,” Hwanwoong answered, tone easy. 

Youngjae stared at him for a moment. "That's…. You might be the first vampire I've met that can enchant something. Much less this powerfully!" he said, still hovering slightly over the set, impressed.

"I had a little practice," Hwanwoong muttered shyly, scratching slightly at his cheek, "And a pretty decent teacher, I guess."

Seoho knocked his shoulder into Hwanwoong's at that, raising his brows in what Youngjo could see was —  _ displeasure? _ After hours of the other smiling, it was jarring to see such a dark expression cross the oldest vampire's features again.

Hwanwoong met Seoho's gaze stubbornly before wavering and sighing, silently conceding as he shook his head. Keonhee looked between Seoho and Hwanwoong for a moment, thoughtful, before realization dawned and he dug an elbow into Hwanwoong's stomach. Hwanwoong yelped and scrunched his face up at Keonhee, eyes sharpening into dispassionate glares. 

"Don't," Keonhee warned softly, and Hwanwoong finally dropped his shoulders and looked back up at the room. 

He waved away their worried glances and Seoho smiled slightly, waving as well. 

"Don't mind that, sorry," Hwanwoong sighed. 

Still, Youngjo didn't ask. Another layer of mystery, again, his questions unanswered. But he found he didn't mind much. They weren't dangerous — not in the way he had thought, and not when there were so many others around him as well. 

But he couldn't stop himself from wondering what the reasons were for the melancholy in Keonhee's eyes and the regret in Hwanwoong's; the distant anger in Seoho's. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiya!!!! a little bit more onewe interactions and involvement here. again, they aren't going to center around the plot too much, but i thought it would be a good thing to try out! hwanwoong and co. are quite,,, secluded.  
> there's a little bit of,,, m y s t e r y ,,,, hehehe... jdlasjdlajsd i hope the progression isn't awkward ;;;;  
> as always, please feel free to talk to me in the comments! i hope you guys are having great days, or that they get better soon !


	19. nineteen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi again!! I hope you've all been doing well — usual disclaimers apply; this is unbeta-ed and so errors may be present! thank you, and I hope you enjoy this chapter

Keonhee thrived in the presence of company. He flitted among the people, glowing under conversation. He flowed seamlessly among them, picking up chats with Dongmyeong and Harin fearlessly and sitting happily beside Hyungu. Returning to Hwanwoong and Seoho and offering them some candy.

Seoho found himself gravitating slightly towards Geonhak, calmest beside the other's silent understanding without Keonhee. Still, they attempted to talk, albeit clumsily and with a copious amount of Seoho laughing at the fact. Eventually, they found common ground in games and in curiosity, Seoho asking him what games to play and recounting the spreads of sports they used to see. Geonhak found out that Seoho was proficient in football and Seoho discovered that Geonhak's interest in exercise was the source of the small chest of weights Geonhak apparently kept in his room. 

Hwanwoong noticed that Dongmyeong stuck to him suddenly. He didn't know what to do at first but Dongju was there alongside his brother, accommodating and gentle as he watched the two. Hwanwoong appreciated it. Dongju already began wearing the ring, and Hwanwoong was pleased to see it shimmer lightly around Dongju, coating him in a faint golden sheen. 

He had asked them to wear them if they wanted to, and they had done so wordlessly. It was almost concerning, how much they trusted him. But it was endearing, disarming in a way that reminded him they hadn't _ needed _ to be afraid, that they had the comfort of a roof over their heads. They'd had Youngjo, and Hwanwoong was starting to understand exactly how much of a difference that one thing could make. 

(Yonghoon hadn't asked, either, though Hwanwoong knew the witch would have had much to question. 

Questions like who taught Hwanwoong, why Yonghoon couldn't decipher the charm, how Hwanwoong had done it so quickly.)

Youngjo toyed with the necklace as he talked to Yonghoon, catching up about what went on in the city. 

Yonghoon's coven lived among humans, occupying the same space as concrete and skyscrapers. They had less reason to be afraid, blood running across them in all forms, safety in the numbers of those uncursed. Even Dongju could sense the feeling of warm humanity on them. 

And so the opposite was blatantly written among Hwanwoong's coven. Still, Yonghoon didn't ask, content in sharing how Dongmyeong and Giwook were starting a music studio. 

Their visit ended two hours afterwards, with Yonghoon telling them they should head back in case his potions would spill — Giwook had forgotten his familiar.

Dongju hugged his brother goodbye, and Youngjo and Geonhak embraced the others as they crossed the doorway. Their backs were lit by the moonlight, silvery and misting. 

"Have a safe trip back," Youngjo said, and Yonghoon laughed. 

"Good joke, hyung," Giwook commented, smiling and lightly smirking. With a bored flourish, Yonghoon waved his hand. Once more the leaves cascaded into a column around them and light poured in from the soil. 

Once more, it was the six of them. 

"They were cool," Keonhee commented. 

“Did you like them?” Dongju asked. There was something childish in the question, a little juvenile. He wanted an answer that he knew he wanted, but he didn’t expect from them either way.

“Yeah!” Seoho said, bright as he twirled a pen in his hands. “They  _ really _ like complimenting each other, huh?” 

“That’s probably because of Dongmyeong and Giwook — those two were attached at the hip since they were kids,” Youngjo told them. 

“They love a lot,” Geonhak added. 

So did Youngjo’s coven, Hwanwoong thought. 

•────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅────•

Hwanwoong threw the turtleneck and hoodie at Seoho while flinging Keonhee the jacket he’d gotten them. They caught it, thanking him after a chuckle and arranging it in the closet that they’d begun sectioning out for each other. The closets were spacious to the point that even their obnoxious haul of clothes still fit within them. The room was coming together, filling Hwanwoong with a fluttering feeling in his chest he couldn’t put a name to. 

The dark walls were colored with the warm lights still, but now there was a curtain of shining, iridescent white lights near one of the beds. The floor was littered with bags of their things and of haphazardly thrown, unorganized belongings. Boxes were still tipped on their side, contents spilling out and bedside drawers were opened, papers and pens lining them and books stacked beside lamps. Hwanwoong had moved the shelves with his journals and Seoho’s books closer to their beds, placing the laptops there as well. Keonhee began filling a cabinet with jars and cosmetic products, the sound of clinking glass filling the air. 

Youngjo had told them that they would fix the things they had bought for themselves but that Hwanwoong and his coven could call them for help. Hwanwoong and Seoho had struggled with the fairy lights for half an hour before Keonhee finally asked for help himself.

It felt nice. (To ask for help, to know it was there.)

Hwanwoong was looking away, placing a candle he liked beside the bed, when Seoho and Keonhee simultaneously pelted him with their own gifts. The clothes hit the back of his head and wrapped quickly around his face at the impact.

He nearly dropped the jar in his hands but he managed to grab it, yelping, bringing it to the front of him and placing it roughly on the wood. He pulled off the clothes from his head, seeing the grey top Seoho had gotten him and the hoodie that Keonhee insisted would look good on Hwanwoong.

He turned to them with his eyebrows furrowed together in incredulity. 

“Was that necessary?” he pouted. They shook their heads and laughed. 

A knock came from the door. They all looked towards it and Keonhee stood up, opening it slightly and smiling at whoever was on the other side. 

Dongju’s voice came from the crack in the door, asking, “Do you need help with anything?” Keonhee turned to the room and Seoho shrugged. Hwanwoong was putting the clothes they’d thrown at him into the closet. 

“Not really, but come in,” Keonhee answered, opening the door further and then going back to the floor, arranging the bags into neat piles to give back to Youngjo. Dongju stepped inside and looked around, quickly taking it in.

“You’re…. You're a little messy,” he said simply. 

Keonhee made a complaining tune. “Hey, we’re moving in, cut us some slack.”

Dongju laughed at him and picked up one of the stray face foam sachets that had been dropped onto the floor. He handed it to Seoho, who looked at him and took it, bowing his head slightly and putting it into the bathroom. For a moment after Seoho came back inside, Dongju just stood there awkwardly. Hwanwoong looked at him curiously.

“Dongju?” he asked. 

“I really do hope it wasn’t awkward for you earlier. I know you said it was okay already but — well, Dongmyeong and his coven can be really loud, but they  _ did _ like you, and I really hope you liked them, too,” Dongju rattled off suddenly.

"Of course!" Keonhee answered quickly, waving his hands in appeasement. "We promise. They were really nice! We just aren't used to it yet. But again, we have to learn some time. You seem like a party kind of person and we wouldn’t want to stop you from having some get-togethers with them, you know."

Hwanwoong rebutted, "So is Keonhee anyways — it’s just that  _ he _ also hasn't been  _ around _ people for a few years," and Keonhee gasped aloud at the retort.

"You're right but I don't want to admit it," Keonhee whispered. Dongju laughed, clear and bright. He appreciated the consideration, though he hadn’t thought he’d been that obvious about himself.

Dongju muttered the next, slightly shy, "Do you want any help organizing? I like tidying up.”

Keonhee and Hwanwoong nodded, welcoming him to do so. They scooted closer to one another, letting Dongju step through the mess of things on the floor. 

There wasn’t much to sort through, now, most of the clothes piled into the closets and their shelves and cabinets filled. They had their last few containers of clothing accessories to sort through and small affects, all of which Dongju could clearly see they held an air of protection over. Hwanwoong stared at the journals, eyes wary and cautious when Dongju stepped towards them. Seoho had hid the books he’d bought in the back of the shelves and piled his small box there, locks already in place. Keonhee was always freer, and yet Dongju saw the fiddling with things in his hands, the tightening and unwillingly loosening grip on the things he surrendered to shelves. And still, they let him move things from box to box, pushing cabinets into place.

It had been different for him — their fear of something taken away. He’d been afraid of the same thing, the feeling of never having anything that was truly  _ his _ except for what he had with his brother. But it had been born of him never allowing himself to love what he had. He didn’t want mirrors that were stained by the betrayal of those that surrounded him or the necklaces stolen from the hands of those who hadn’t found the ways past the flames. He had been afraid of things taken away from him in the sense that he wanted but he’d never had anything he  _ wanted _ given to him. He hadn’t had the affection he’d desired, hadn’t had a shoulder to cry on except his brother’s, and all he could build himself up with was Dongmyeong. Not then, not until Youngjo.

Seoho and Hwanwoong and Keonhee — they simply hadn’t had anything they wanted except another day under the moonlight. It wasn’t fear, it was  _ wonder. _ It was disbelief, and not wanting that hope ripped away from them. 

Dongju realized maybe they were as young as him. Decades were worth nothing, after all, in their eyes, and what was youth but the incapability to see the future, the caging of the world down on all sides. Dongju had learnt that fear did not make you wise, that strength did not make you happy.

(And he wondered what he could do. He wanted to make them happy.)

“Oh, whose is this?” Dongju asked, holding up a dark orb in his hands, small fragments seemingly cracking and yielding to gold, something shimmering in the fissures, almost as if golden water flowed inside. It was heavy, he noted, though he hadn’t noticed anything like it from the jewelry store. It shone with light from the liquid within, and so he flipped the peculiar lamp in his hands.

Hwanwoong and Keonhee looked over at him, Seoho plugging in his phone, and Dongju saw something soft flicker in Hwanwoong’s eyes for the swiftest of moments. Keonhee’s eyes widened in surprise and he walked over to it. “Huh,” Keonhee mumbled, “I thought it was black, wasn’t it, Woong?” 

Seoho looked over them then, standing up straight and taking it from Dongju. 

“Onyx,” Seoho hummed to himself. “Why’d you pick it out?” 

Keonhee shrugged honestly. “Impulse buy. It was all black,” he said. Seoho laughed.

“Of  _ course _ that’s why you’d buy it.”

“It looks nice either way, Keonhee,” Hwanwoong said, taking it from Seoho with a smile and setting it on top of the bedside table. He even pat it once, affectionate somehow. 

Dongju looked between them. “Uh,” he started, and they all looked attentively at him, Hwanwoong’s eyes expectant. “What’s up about onyx? I thought it was just a fancy lamp.”

Hwanwoong and Seoho laughed slightly at that. 

“It can be whatever you make it to be,” Hwanwoong remarked cryptically. “But no, Keonhee grabbed an onyx paperweight. I hadn’t noticed at the time. They say it gives people a sense of security, calms them down. Lets us see past the fears,” Hwanwoong told him.

“It’s a lamp  _ now _ because the magical overexposure probably cracked it. Built up too much so now we can see,” Seoho followed, “ _ That. _ The gold there is some visible magic,” he said, pointing at the swirls inside. “They’re actually really pretty. I’m betting some of that’s Yonghoon’s.”

Dongju paused at that, wonderstruck. Keonhee as well looked elated at the information, fussing over the orb with a renewed vigor and self-satisfaction. Dongju looked over it once more, something brighter in his appreciation for it. 

He hadn’t learnt much about magic, or whatever else that came with it. He’d known it ran in him, something more than simple science, something inexplicable. He’d never thought of something as simple as onyx. Stones were stones, and gems were gems, and he knew he’d liked how they looked. He’d never known if they’d meant anything — if the rubies he wore meant anything, if the twinkling ores on his earrings would bathe him in safety. 

It made  _ him _ happy, then. 

That somehow, even through the darkness and the weight of the shadows bearing down on them, Seoho and Hwanwoong and Keonhee still found magic — that magic still found  _ them. _ They still saw things and they understood that there was light in it, something to allow them to breathe, something that shielded them from the world and the woes it seemed to persist upon them. 

(He’d forgotten youth had also been awestruck expressions, of the simple questions answered by looking up at the stars in the night sky and knowing they were watching over you, the moon kissing your skin gently.

He hadn’t needed to fear so much.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!! I hope you enjoyed the chapter ;;;; if you'd like to talk to me about it, feel free to leave a comment, or a kudos as feedback!! just some chill times for this chapter! he he  
> I hope you've all been having a good day!!


	20. twenty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this work is unbeta-ed and unedited! I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!!!

With Dongju’s help, they had managed to arrange everything else in the room in just under half an hour. They'd put what they needed to in the trash and then they were finally folding and stacking whatever containers they had. Even their shoes were stacked neatly, pushed flush against the wall. 

Their beds were drawn slightly closer together, though Dongju had an inkling only one of them was used. The closets had clean divisions between them, Dongju arranging them helpfully after Keonhee. The fairy lights were shut off but framed Hwanwoong's bed prettily, draping the left wall in thin threads of silver. Geonhak had told them about the remote when he went by once, which Seoho had somehow hidden from the rest and would have forgotten. They had all delighted when they switched the colors of the bulbs, Hwanwoong happily staring at it for a minute. Dongju thought it fit him. 

He stood up from picking up the boxes to give to Youngjo, preparing to leave with them and bid them goodbye until Hwanwoong took his hand and tugged on it gently.

"We'll help you," Hwanwoong said, and he was smiling something honest. 

Keonhee and Seoho were already holding up some of the larger bags and balancing boxes in their arms, and so Hwanwoong took some of the stack from Dongju. Seoho reminded him to watch his shoulder. Hwanwoong rolled his shoulder once, looking off to the side, and nodded. 

"Thanks," Dongju smiled back.

They walked over to the dining room and then Dongju walked into the adjacent storage room, pushing it open. He put down the boxes and helped the other three put down the things as well, pushing them into the racks. There were a variety of items there, blocks of unopened things and furniture which they stored. Dongju saw the vague shape of a fountain there and looked for a moment before looking back towards Hwanwoong's coven. 

When they went back to the dining room, Geonhak was peering in curiously from the hallway. He made an expression of understanding before waving at them. 

"Finished fixing your room up?" he asked, and Keonhee happily affirmed. 

"The fairy lights are really cute," Keonhee said. Hwanwoong smiled brightly, grin sharp as he looked pleased with himself. 

"As cute as me?" Hwanwoong suddenly asked, and seemed to realize what he'd said as he laughed at himself, flushing red and turning away from them. Seoho was looking at him incredulously and laughed as well, pointing at him as he pat his good shoulder.

Dongju lit up. Hwanwoong had made a  _ joke. _

"Of course," Dongju said, smiling, slightly teasing though flat-toned. Hwanwoong laughed again, face still hidden, and they saw him hit Seoho, to which the older vampire breathed out a puff in disbelief and turned him around, making Hwanwoong cover his face with his hands. 

"When do you want to dye your hair?" Geonhak asked, smiling as well and his eyes twinkling. Hwanwoong peeked at him from in between his fingers and calmed down, thinking for a moment.

"When can we do it? Are any of you free?" Hwanwoong asked instead. His brows furrowed. 

"Can  _ you _ do it? I need to bleach it and stuff. Or do I need to go to a salon or something?" He grabbed a handful of the strands across his forehead. "And my hair's gotten pretty long." 

"I think we did well on the haircuts, though," Seoho supplied from the side. 

"The first time you tried to cut Keonhee's hair was horrible," Hwanwoong said, looking unimpressed. 

Seoho smiled even though he defended himself. "That was a special case! He was new then, I didn't know he would look like an egg." 

Keonhee promptly slapped Seoho's back at the sentiment, making an offended sound. 

"Stop making me feel bad about my hair. I was  _ your _ egg, take some accountability!" the tall boy interjected, and when he'd realized that he was saying the absurd thing, Youngjo's voice already appeared from the hallway, rattling with breathy laughter. Keonhee's voice was high and shrill, pitched just enough to make anything sound funny. Geonhak and Dongju likewise broke out into peals of amusement, Geonhak's face scrunching up in joy and throwing his head back while Dongju curled slightly into himself. 

"Why is Keonhee an egg?" Youngjo asked, humored, though they all knew he'd heard everything. 

Keonhee threw a glare at Seoho, which the other replied to with a bright, self-satisfied smile. 

After calming down, Youngjo answered Hwanwoong, saying, "We can trim it. Nothing too fancy, we do need to go to a salon if you want something more complicated. But I used to cut Geonhak's hair and Dongju learnt some stuff as well. Dongju's pretty good at bleaching, he and Dongmyeong used to really go for it before."

Hwanwoong grew excited. "Can we do it sometime today or are you busy?" 

"Sure!" Youngjo replied, chipper. He seemed happy at the suggestion, in fact. "After some food, though? We could cook up that venison Seoho wanted." 

They all agreed, and Geonhak started up the stove while Youngjo opened the freezer. 

Keonhee helped this time with cooking the meat, letting Geonhak cook something else. Dongju ate some snacks in the meantime, offering some to Hwanwoong, who took some with a shy smile.

The sizzling of the meat soon reached their ears and Seoho was smiling down at the pan, though it could easily be seen how much he'd be willing to eat the thing raw. Hwanwoong offered him a piece of the bacon chips Dongju gave as consolation, and Seoho happily ate it from Hwanwoong's hands. 

Geonhak invited Hwanwoong to look over the instant rice which the smaller watched with an amusingly rapt gaze. Geonhak asked him what toppings he'd like. Hwanwoong opened his mouth, shut it, then said, "Are there seaweed sheets? I miss rice balls."

Geonhak easily took some dried sheets from an upper cabinet, which they could see Hwanwoong looked at with joking disdain. He brought it down and set it aside, sprinkling some salt onto the rice. 

They prepared all of the food, eating their meal happily. Seoho tore into the venison and Hwanwoong laughed. Keonhee kept stealing Hwanwoong's rice balls, which rewarded him with Hwanwoong biting on his arm lightly. Still, it made Keonhee refrain from doing it again, and they all saw the pleased grin on Hwanwoong's face at the development. 

Keonhee was happy to see the trust there as Hwanwoong ate slowly, savoring his food as he'd learnt to.

He knew that it wasn’t easy to learn. He’d received venomous glares from his coven before he had traveled with them, before he had prepared to give everything that was his for their own safety. He liked to think that if it weren’t for him, Hwanwoong and Seoho would never have stepped foot inside this house. 

(He didn’t like thinking that; it made him sick to his stomach, a world where Seoho and Hwanwoong, no matter how angry or how afraid, would be left without light and without warmth. They burned brighter than the stars in space and the world simply hadn’t learnt to make way for them, and that was not their fault.)

After, they cleaned the dishes once more, and Keonhee saw Geonhak changing and readying to go out the door. He asked the other what he was doing, and Geonhak looked at him as he wore his shoes.

“Ah, I’m going out for a jog. The clearing out at night is pretty,” Geonhak said. 

The clearing, Keonhee thought to himself. He couldn't recall the beauty Geonhak seemed to know. It hadn’t been, at the time. Or maybe it had, and he hadn’t noticed. 

“Can I join you? I’m not going to jog though, I hate that.”

Geonhak fixed him with a bemused look. “You’re a  _ vampire. _ It isn’t even tiring?” Geonhak said.

“Don’t patronize me,” Keonhee mumbled, turning on his heels. 

As he went to change, Seoho and Hwanwoong took notice of him. 

“Where’s he going?” they asked one another at the same time, shocked and then staring at one another. They laughed and then both turned to Geonhak, asking him instead.

“He said he’ll join me in going to the clearing. I go there sometimes to clear my head,” Geonhak told them, dressed and prepared already but patiently waiting. The statement of that made Seoho and Hwanwoong ask if they could join as well, and soon, all six of them had decided to go to see the sky. 

Youngjo and Dongju had simply worn their shoes, perhaps wearing a jacket if they preferred. Keonhee, though, had come out with a tasteful layering, a comfortable denim jacket worn around a simple graphic tee, paired with dark jeans and black shoes. Seoho beside him was much more casual, but he looked pleased with his clothes, the dark shirt loose and heavy around him and the dark pants less so. Hwanwoong was wearing a jacket as well, cropped higher near to his waist but flowing and loose like the shirt underneath. 

They looked young, like that. And they acted it, too, excited, eager and content as they wore clothes that were  _ theirs. _ That weren’t torn, or muddled, or soiled. 

Dongju took note of their smiles and smiled as well.

They walked and they talked, Youngjo locking the door before jogging to the front of the group and chatting up with Geonhak and Keonhee. Seoho remained at the front as well, though he kept off to one side, Hwanwoong behind him with Dongju playing with Hwanwoong’s hands, much to the older’s delight. 

The clearing appeared before them after a few minutes, silver under the moonlight but green and vibrant as well. Dongju basked under it, shining with calm serenity. Keonhee splayed himself out on the grass, jacket spreading around him in a coat of denim, eyes smiling up at the moon. 

Geonhak simply stood there for a moment and then sat down beside Dongju, letting the fledgling cuddle close to him. Hwanwoong and Seoho looked around, clearly taking in the familiar sight, and Youngjo noticed Hwanwoong draw close to where the smaller boy had been that night, bleeding, smelling the scent of pain still lingering there. Then Hwanwoong took out his phone, snapped a picture of the scenery, and walked over to Seoho and dragged him to Keonhee. He sat down and then laid on top of the lithe vampire. Keonhee gave an oomph at the sudden weight of Hwanwoong but wrapped his arms around the other, pivoting him so he wouldn't press on his wound. Hwanwoong pushed back, challenging Keonhee with a glance, and Keonhee replied by sticking out his tongue and letting Hwanwoong arrange himself. Seoho laid down beside the two, flat on his back as well and pensive as he stared at the sky. Again, he wrote foreign letters into the sky and his coven mates watched him affectionately. Hwanwoong took his wrist and made small corrections. Geonhak shifted slightly towards Seoho, who looked at him curiously. Dongju laid a leg across Seoho's, and Seoho just pursed his lips and smiled slightly then continued staring up at the sky in silence, Hwanwoong's hands now playing with the skin of his arm.

Youngjo laid down on his side beside Keonhee and Hwanwoong, and he watched them. 

It had been just three days. One spent in that very clearing, in fear and distrust; the second in learning that the first had been nothing but the angered tears of the night sky. And now they had seen past the clouds, had torn away the mist. They had walked into a city, smelled concrete and felt it under their feet, and they had laughed and smiled. They had met Yonghoon and Kanghyun and his coven, they had spoken to one another. 

Three days. 

He remembered the sight of shadows in the air, black and angry and warning as they ripped apart the cool touch of comfort, swirling around Seoho. Winding around the eldest like smoke, piercing red eyes crossing its threshold and striking terror into Youngjo's coven. Ancient dust falling from irises and exposing the nightmares there. The amulet, transferred from one cold body to another and then forming around Hwanwoong, seeping into cracks you couldn't see, darkness bleeding into sudden light, eyes dull. The air, parting in the middle, making space for something that was bigger than them, letting pillars rise from the ground and bathe them in the scent of earth and copper. He remembered the apprehension, the demands and words which hung like curses between them, promises Keonhee had made which Youngjo had not had the chance for. 

He remembered the unease as they walked, the leaves crunching too loudly and the questions he couldn't drown out from his ears. He remembered sitting at the table, three ravenous feeders across from him, and thinking about his family he had. He remembered the fear of seeing them there, painfully juxtaposed to the removal of the void Seoho was and exposure into the light they hid. 

He remembered the silence, the agreement they had come to, the thought that safety was something that was both given and taken. He remembered the awkward breakfast the next day. The walking on eggshells, the meek introductions. 

But most glaringly he remembered the moment he'd realized they wanted nothing more than to be safe and to be saved. How Seoho and Hwanwoong recalled memories with veiled but honest words while Keonhee displayed his love brightly and without shame, somehow untarnished by the years with his heart. How Geonhak smiled and rose past simple pleasantries, the recognition that rang in Dongju as well. 

He remembered them reaching for what they could, fingers grasping onto wishes and learning they could have it.

They had all been lonely.

They were learning they didn't have to be, clear in their smiles and in the distant eyes that seemed to always return with hope.

Youngjo was thankful he'd decided to bring them to the city. 

(The new memories would do them well.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can u tell i love bonding time?? bc I rly love bonding time :'))))  
> as always, thank you for reading !!! I hope you liked the chapter. Feel free to leave kudos or comments if you'd like!!  
> we're twenty chapters in!!! thank you so much for sticking with this story for such a long time and the warm reception you guys have given it qwq. this is maybe like,,, a third of the way through??? JDJSJSJJ I'm so sorry I'm not the fastest writer,,, but I hope you guys can be patient with me and that you like where I bring the story in the future!  
> oh, and if anyone is interested, I've made a twt acc ! if you'd like to contact me there ,,, uh,,,, I'll put the link in the notes soon!  
> I hope you're doing well and remember to take care of yourselves!!


	21. twenty one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello again!!! here's the next update !! as always, unbeta-ed, and so any errors are mine alone! i hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

Hwanwoong didn't like the smell of bleach. The stench was exacerbated by their heightened senses and the process filled Hwanwoong with a whining litany of words. He didn't feel the usual warning of it burning. He still persistently complained about the bleach, though, which Youngjo apologized for with a slight smile.

Hwanwoong's hair was sectioned into stiff wefts of bleach, and he was pointedly not looking at himself in the mirror, though Keonhee and Seoho were perfectly content with laughing at him. Keonhee took pictures, and Hwanwoong kicked him for it. Seoho was satisfied just laughing at the situation, scrolling through his phone. 

"It's working, at least," Geonhak said, pointing at the visibly lightening strands of Hwanwoong's hair. Hwanwoong sighed out and gave a sarcastic smile, irises dulling on command and lids drooping. 

"Maybe I shouldn't have done this where Keonhee would see it," Hwanwoong said. Keonhee grinned, shrugged his shoulders, and snapped another picture. 

Dongju turned off the sink and hummed as he dried off his hands. "Your hair is actually really good, hyung," Dongju said, making Hwanwoong look at him confused in a confused manner. 

"This?" Hwanwoong asked incredulously, pointing at himself, a gesture to the tangled, sticky mess on his head. Dongju laughed. 

"No, I mean - it's healthy. Some people get worried about their hair falling out and stuff, you know," Dongju clarified brightly. 

"That's surprising," Hwanwoong mumbled, genuinely confused. 

Dongju waved away the sentiment gently, still understanding of what Hwanwoong meant. "It's good news, we'll need to bleach it again anyway," Dongju said, and he grimaced with a smile as Hwanwoong groaned and Keonhee hollered.

They let Hwanwoong rinse out his hair and Hwanwoong audibly hissed when Keonhee began to tease him for the orange tint that was still ever so slightly present. Admittedly, it looked far better than some of the other attempts Dongju had tried on himself and his brother, and the color somehow suited Hwanwoong. That was thankfully aided by the fact Geonhak had remembered the materials Dongju asked him to buy when the youngest dyed his hair. Keonhee was teasing just for the sake of being a nuisance, they all realized.

Nonetheless, Youngjo physically held the two bickering coven mates back from each other, though there was obviously no need to do so. Youngjo was smiling, and so was Geonhak and Dongju and Hwanwoong and Keonhee. 

From off to the side, Seoho looked at them briefly, pausing the video playing on his phone. He took out the earphones he was wearing and looked at Keonhee and Hwanwoong dissolve into noise. 

It was equally funny, Seoho thought, as he looked at the obnoxious sight, how he saw once more the way that Hwanwoong spoke without words.

(Hwanwoong and Seoho weren't the best of liars, though they  _ had _ learnt through the years. Seoho could confidently say he was better than Hwanwoong. But they didn't have a grasp on words quite like Keonhee, vocabulary often cut and curt, unyielding. They didn't talk much, either, about themselves. They relied on the simple method of understanding, of insightful glances and silent acknowledgement. 

For example, Hwanwoong's laughter was always good, Seoho understood. The one that rang in his chest, at the very least, and not the one that came out through locked jaws. Hwanwoong's silence could burn hot and cold, dark or light only with the context of whatever filled his head. His smile was hundreds of things at once, and Seoho had become confident in knowing each one of them. 

Hwanwoong's trust, though — it was childish. It grew. From nothing, others might have said. But it simply grew; it did not appear like lightning nor was it earned through hours of toiling and suffering. 

It simply began, and before anybody could realize it, it was there. It was there, budding from the mirror of trust that was offered to him, and Hwanwoong would mimic the sights of everything he could see. He sought out the gentle words and the reminders of thought, the wordless actions of appreciation, and so he attempted the same once shown  _ how. _ Sometimes even trust itself did not realize the roots it planted, and Hwanwoong was simply left to reap what was sown, the images across from him already familiar though he'd never searched for them. 

And to say it all, Seoho thought, what he meant was that Hwanwoong was an excellent keeper of secrets, even from himself. 

Because Hwanwoong had always wanted company. Hwanwoong had always wanted to laugh, to shine under the eyes of those around him, for them to see him. He wanted understanding and love, and he attempted the same and more for the world he could handle. He refused to accept that, sometimes — didn't  _ want _ to want. But past all of the running, through the curtains of crimson, Hwanwoong was still a child.

And maybe, Seoho wouldn't audibly admit, so was he. 

But he was an excellent secret-keeper as well, and Hwanwoong's glances at him that were reflections of his own to Hwanwoong's need never hear the light of day.)

•────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅────•

They retired for the night afterwards, Hwanwoong petulantly sticking closer to Seoho's side of the bed while Keonhee whined about the loss of a pillow.

"I'm going to turn you into a tangerine one day," Hwanwoong grumbled, face hidden in Seoho's sleeves. His hair splayed out in locks of dark blond, still tinted near the roots. Though, when Keonhee had ruffled it, it was surprisingly soft still. 

"Thankfully, you are  _ not _ a transmutator," Keonhee said, as he retracted his hand. He flicked off the warm lamp beside them and dimly lit the fairy lights. 

Hwanwoong reiterated, "I'm gonna do it."

Seoho laughed in between them.  _ "Sleep," _ he urged them both, closing his eyes with a smile. He felt the shove Hwanwoong gave Keonhee still, but he didn't mind, just trying to sleep.

They could be themselves, after all. Youngjo's coven understood. Youngjo's coven  _ wanted _ to understand, through questions or through kind gazes.

Seoho felt Hwanwoong wrap his bad arm slightly over him, holding Keonhee's hand though they bickered. Keonhee chuckled at the gesture, and he muttered to the ceiling. 

"You're going to have to deal with cuddling just Seoho hyung tonight, no Keon-Heater for you," Keonhee said, and Hwanwoong snorted in mock derision. 

"Who says I'm not warm?" Seoho said. His smile clearly told them he knew he ran cold. 

"We used to not have a heater Keonhee  _ or _ a bed, I think we're good," Hwanwoong mumbled as well. His tightening grip on Keonhee's hand said otherwise. Keonhee laughed and squeezed Hwanwoong’s hand in return, laying it on top of Seoho’s chest.

Seoho blinked slowly, tired but not quite sleepy enough to fall asleep. He maintained his stare with the ceiling, studying the patterns very faintly there. Squares and triangles, and all the sides present in a single dot, an atom of existence. He wanted to turn on his phone. To revel in its artificial light and marvel at what he had, what he hadn’t thought he would have again after decades of nothing but two other souls beside him and the desire to keep each other safe.

None of them were close to falling asleep when he asked, wondered,  _ hoped with all of his heart _ —

"Do we really have this?"

And that was what they wanted to know at that moment. Because it was still unbelievable. No matter how much they trusted Youngjo and his coven, no matter how much they could let themselves drop into a sense of belonging — it felt unreal. 

Steps on floors didn't feel the same as their feet on soil, and they couldn't remember anything but the feeling of morning dew stinging on cuts and abrasions. It wasn’t easy to remember electricity and warmth but at the same time gentle cold, because they’d had nothing but the winds and all of its anger. It felt as if whatever could prove to them that it was real simply stopped existing in their minds, and Seoho struggled to answer his own question.

"You can say that again," Hwanwoong huffed out, devoid of an answer. Seoho felt the younger vampire’s other arm weave in between Seoho’s back and the bed, and then Hwanwoong was desperately grabbing onto Seoho, clutching at him and not willing to let go. They all heard the slight grunt of discomfort as Hwanwoong’s nails bit into Keonhee’s skin. 

Keonhee sighed. "Let's sleep. Tomorrow is a new day, and we'll figure it out along the way like we always do,” he told them, and shut his eyes. Seoho and Hwanwoong did the same, evening their breathing. 

They still couldn’t, though the sun started to make itself known, attempting to shine through the heavy curtains. The very sight of it should have been enough to make them weak, to remind them that they had to sleep. Their veins were drained and staying awake was a chore, but somehow that was easier than muting the screaming in their thoughts. Keonhee was the first to sit up from the bed and sigh, rubbing at his overly sensitive eyes. He turned off the fairy lights and moved beds, waiting as Seoho and Hwanwoong did the same. 

This time, he wrapped himself around Hwanwoong, and Seoho was on the other side of the smaller vampire. Hwanwoong relaxed into the touch, and then he was purring, body heavy and sinking into the cushions. The sound of it put them at ease, and they found sleep hours into the day. It was no more or less real, but they were experiencing it, and that was more than they could have hoped for.

They woke to the last few rays of sunlight. Hwanwoong was still latched onto Keonhee in sleep. Keonhee looked down at the other and settled his chin on the top of the smaller vampire’s head, letting Seoho stretch out and walk to the dresser. The eldest grabbed a fresh set of clothes and physically buffered, fingers freezing around one of the shampoo bottles they had bought. He didn’t say anything and continued into the bathroom, the slightest of smiles present on the corners of his lips. Keonhee laughed at the movement before settling back motionlessly beside Hwanwoong.

Keonhee stayed like that with Hwanwoong for a few moments, just humming absently as he stared at the walls and thought. Hwanwoong’s presence in his arms was real, he knew. He didn’t need much more than that, and neither did Hwanwoong. 

When Keonhee began to detach himself from Hwanwoong, he noticed a thin line of sunlight hitting Hwanwoong. It made him look sunkissed and ethereal, the whispers of warmth bathing the smaller figure, forming a halo and shining through his bleached hair. Keonhee stared at it for a moment and then shook his head. He sighed to himself and then stood to tightly shut the curtains. He threaded his hands gently through Hwanwoong’s hair, appeasing the small grunts of discomfort that had started to rise from the other. 

He took extra care as he started to shake the other awake. He tensed when Hwanwoong twitched, and then gently pulled him up with a smile. 

“Woong,” he called softly. Hwanwoong opened his eyes once and then shut them again, and Keonhee puffed his cheeks in a pout. He pivoted Hwanwoong into a sitting position and then pat his face. A small hiss came from Hwanwoong, and he opened his eyes, flashing them and then blinking awake. 

“Morning,” Keonhee greeted brightly. “Time to kill your hair a second time!”

Hwanwoong’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Are you hungry? Have we run out of deer?” 

Keonhee laughed and shook his head. “We’re at Youngjo’s. You’re in a bed, Woongie. No deer here — you’re going to bleach your hair, remember?” he said. His voice was much gentler. 

“No,” Hwanwoong answered honestly, but he did rub at his eyes, and when he looked back at Keonhee, he looked more lucid. “Day?” Hwanwoong asked.

“Sunday,” Keonhee told him, and it took a moment of Hwanwoong mulling it over in his head before the other nodded to himself. His sleepiness was groggy, Keonhee was well aware, but the routine was something he’d learnt as well. “Come on, stand up,” Keonhee continued, “Seoho hyung’s probably just finishing up. Let’s go get you ready.”

Hwanwoong grumbled as Keonhee carried him off the bed, but didn’t relent — though both of them knew he easily could. 

It didn’t take them long, and they left their room a few minutes later. The kitchen was clear of the other coven, though they could hear the muted sounds of water running from faraway rooms. They settled for waiting in the room, though Keonhee reminded them that the others had already invited them to their rooms before. 

“Do you think we should make them food or something?” Seoho asked. 

“Have we cooked the last pair of rabbits?” was Hwanwoong’s replying query, and Seoho walked over to the fridge and took them out with a smile. 

“Nope,” Seoho answered, and he turned the stove on. 

“Please don’t experiment, just give them some meat. I’ll cook the rice,” Keonhee requested, and Seoho laughed humorously, though he threw Keonhee a glare. Keonhee ignored it and started washing the rice, leaving Hwanwoong to sleep once more on the table, calm and even as he rested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehehe,,, the hair dye process begins! i know not much happens here but i hope it's okay to help establish some of the interactions and relationships even more for you guys 🥺 little bits of sneak peeks as well into some of their little routines!! also i'm a sucker for mutual understanding  
> were you guys able to watch kcontact? I really enjoyed it!!!  
> i hope you guys liked the chapter!!! and i hope you have a good weekend!!!


	22. twenty two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi ! hope you're doing well - this is unbeta-ed and so all errors are mine! i dont think there's anything to warn in this chapter but if there is please tell me! i hope you enjoy it ^^

"Your hair is  _ really  _ dead now,” Keonhee snickered, and he was taking pictures again. Hwanwoong was choosing to ignore him this time, occupying himself with his phone, though he kicked Keonhee when he got too close. 

The third time Keonhee mentioned it, Hwanwoong said, "It finally reflects me on the inside," and smiled sharply at Keonhee. Keonhee yelped slightly at the sight of Hwanwoong’s sharp canines, and backed off with a heated glare directed at his coven mate.

“The color is actually really pretty,” Geonhak told them, interrupting the staring contest between the two, and Hwanwoong pouted his lips as he blinked away from Keonhee and thanked Geonhak. 

“We’ll dye it later near morning if you want, but you’ll just be blond for now,” Dongju said, gently applying the bleach to the underside of Hwanwoong’s hair. “We can trim it later after toning it. It’ll die again but we have conditioner.”

“The price of beauty,” Keonhee teased, and Hwanwoong scrunched his face up at him. 

“At least I’m pretty,” Hwanwoong rebutted, and Youngjo hummed agreeably. Hwanwoong heard it and smirked at the other, blinking up at him, his eyes sharp and mischievous.

“Aw, so  _ you _ think I’m pretty?” Hwanwoong asked, words colored with an air of flirtatiousness that Seoho and Keonhee hadn’t heard for years, sending them into a fit of chuckles and nostalgic familiarity. Youngjo, admirably, held Hwanwoong’s gaze with his own and nodded firmly. Geonhak and Dongju seemed amused as they looked at the action. 

“I thought that was obvious?” Youngjo muttered, lips curling to the side, and Hwanwoong stopped for a moment. Then he blushed as he averted his eyes. Geonhak and Dongju stared at Youngjo for a second, open-mouthed and bemused, before they erupted into laughter at the faux innocence Youngjo donned in the next motion. 

The rest of the time was spent with Dongju gently spreading the bleach through Hwanwoong’s hair and then Hwanwoong carefully washing it out in the tub. He was wearing a thin shirt from Dongju, one that the younger said he’d never really liked, and so the fledgling had offered it to him for the process. Geonhak handed him a towel and Hwanwoong graciously took it, slow as he patted his hair. Dongju had warned him multiple times about it. 

Toning was spent in much the same way, though Hwanwoong had become significantly more shameless, brave enough to walk around the bathroom with the blue paste in his hair, playfully posing for Keonhee. Keonhee took a plethora of pictures and videos, but began complaining that if Hwanwoong liked it, the fun was taken out. It was the source of much mirth from the others, and Youngjo in particular watched with a bright smile. 

The marble walls of the bathroom had always been bright and golden, but more so was Hwanwoong, his hair catching the light. Again, Youngjo could see light pouring out of him through the dark crevices on his skin, in his eyes. Hwanwoong seemed to bleed gold alongside crimson, making it shine, dark copper parting for the glittering rivers of luminescence. Purebloods had always had blood that ran darker, touched by Selene in a way that others simply were not. Some boasted about it, some kept it close to their hearts. Youngjo had never had much to say about it, content in who he was without commentary or preamble. Neither did Hwanwoong nor Dongju nor Seoho, and that settled something in Youngjo’s thoughts into relief.

But light was magic, and Youngjo couldn’t quite understand how it seemed to pour out of Hwanwoong in waves. 

Magic was not for everyone to realize. But for some odd reason, Youngjo couldn’t help but be appeased when he did so, something calming deep in his chest if he looked at Hwanwoong, at the smile and the lit eyes. The beams of sparkling starlight falling from dark irises. 

He was so bright.

And Youngjo had always been curious about the sun. 

•────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅────•

Change itself was always different, Hwanwoong remembered as he looked at the pink strands he held in between his fingers. The color was bright and vibrant, practically giving off their own light. 

(Change used to be anger, a screaming clamor in the night going against what was written into stone. And sometimes it was silence, stalking in the shadows and then erupting in fire in the heart of the city. Perhaps, in the time that Hwanwoong couldn’t remember, it was walking away from the path and climbing up into trees and staring at the moon. 

Now, it was shifting from one foot to another, from changing your eyes, from moving homes. It was holding blades to holding cloth, soft and yielding unlike the glint and rough edge of metal. Now, change was planting something into the soil and watching it make roots and leaves and blossom into the difference of Life and Death.

Hwanwoong hadn’t thought of himself as dead, not really. But maybe he had been — before the time he had someone, before he had the shoulder to lean on and to cry into. Before Keonhee and Seoho.

After; he’d started changing then, and maybe that was why he had never really been afraid of it in the way others were. Life and Death were two things in his life that he’d forgotten to make a divide between, in those early decades. And if change was Seoho and Keonhee, then there really was nothing to be afraid of.)

He set his hand down and looked at himself in the mirror. He smiled.

“Thank you,” Hwanwoong said, earnest as he turned to Dongju and Geonhak and Youngjo. Keonhee walked to him and ghosted his hands around Hwanwoong’s hair. It was a feathered touch, but still Keonhee let out a contemplative sound. 

“It looks good,” Keonhee chirped. Dongju brightened, pleased at the result of his work and the affirmation of it. 

“It really does,” Hwanwoong added.

Dongju froze as Hwanwoong wrapped his arms around him and hugged him. 

Hwanwoong was physically cold, colder than most, bloodless for a much longer time, frost making itself known in his veins and making its home there. His skin told the tales of the nights he’d spent, of the memories that chased after him and cloaked him in ice. And yet, when Dongju relaxed into it and felt Hwanwoong ease, it was anything but. Hwanwoong was  _ warm. _ He was shining, and flaming, and burning from inside. He felt like home, in the odd sense of the word — the one that wasn’t based upon foundations of wood or cement. It wasn’t anything like floorboards, or lights, or lamps. It was  _ him, _ just Hwanwoong. 

Dongju felt content there. He didn’t feel lonely, couldn’t feel the whispers of that emptiness and insecurity that sometimes made itself known to him. Hwanwoong’s company thawed him, the sensation of Hwanwoong’s arms wrapping softly around him; and he started to realize he’d probably looked it, if the curious gazes of Geonhak and Youngjo were anything to go by. He didn’t mind, setting his head atop Hwanwoong’s, smiling when Hwanwoong chuckled. 

When Hwanwoong let go, the smaller vampire was smiling up at him, pink hair damp but attractive around his features. Dongju fixed the parting and then stepped away contently, arranging his own brightly dyed hair. 

“I’ll clean up,” Dongju told them, and the rest offered to help swiftly, though Seoho didn’t quite say anything. Keonhee had to push at Seoho’s shoulders slightly before the eldest pretended to not have heard, and Dongju felt warranted, felt permitted when he’d started an attempt at berating the other. Seoho let him.

Hwanwoong took care of the fabrics and plastics, taking responsibility for the dyes and the other chemicals that there were, consciously tolerant of the strong scent wafting off of them as he did so. Geonhak took out the chair and brought it back to the kitchen, and they all quickly busied themselves with organizing everything back into its place. 

The action felt oddly familiar, like routine — more comfortable than they'd ever remembered it being. Geonhak and Youngjo had never been quite as seamless as they weaved through the smaller space, flitting between three other bodies and smiling widely at them.

They returned to their rooms after that, allowing each other silence and Dongju advising Hwanwoong to let his hair rest.

It didn't take more than a dozen minutes before a knock resounded against Dongju's door and he opened it to the sight of Keonhee. The other was smiling, and Dongju could see Hwanwoong and Seoho behind him. 

"Would you mind if we stayed here for company? We're getting sick of each other," Keonhee joked. Dongju smiled and hummed then opened the door for them. He cleared the bed of the plethora of stuffed toys and pillows, forming a frame of it instead. 

"These are really cute," Hwanwoong said, gesturing politely at the plushies and putting one up to his face. Dongju physically relaxed when he saw the lack of judgement. 

"Thanks," Dongju replied. 

Keonhee made a surprised exclamation. "Oh, what's this?" Keonhee asked, softly poking at one of Dongju's character pillows. 

"That's Ryan," Dongju answered, and handed it to Keonhee. Keonhee smiled at him and hugged it to his body, squeezing it experimentally for a few attempts. When he seemed content, he started inching towards the bed, and Dongju offered him a seat which he graciously accepted. 

Seoho was skimming his hands over the plushies curiously, and Hwanwoong watched his coven mate do so. There was a slightly regretful gaze hidden in Hwanwoong's eyes which Dongju could see. It pained him as he looked at it, but he didn't ask. He didn't want to, and they didn't either. (He hoped they could tell them soon, but Dongju could wait patiently for that, too.)

Dongju turned to Keonhee, who was still hugging the plush and was now settling his chin onto it. 

"Do you want to buy one next time?" Dongju asked, and Keonhee's head flitted to him.

"Huh?" Keonhee mumbled. He seemed sleepy. Dongju pursed his lips to hide his smile. 

Dongju said, "We can buy plushies for you guys. I can also show you where the character comes from. I'm… a bit attached to my plushies and all, but I can show you where you can get your own." 

Keonhee pushed the plush slightly away from him and looked at it as if in the eyes, and Dongju briefly thought about the moments when he had done the same as a child, finding comfort in vague faces. He wondered if Keonhee did, too, or if Seoho and Hwanwoong would. He wondered many things about them.

Still, though he didn't really  _ know, _ he didn't mind. They were warm, and they were kind, and that was enough for Dongju.

"Is he a bear?" Keonhee asked, and Dongju shook his head, clarifying. 

Through the explanation — Dongju pulling up his phone and showing Keonhee the cute sets of friends on the messaging app — Seoho and Hwanwoong had somehow ended up on the floor, the pair pressing their backs to each other. They seemed to be listening as well, and Dongju felt slightly embarrassed as he realized it. He said as much, but the three appeased him and told him they appreciated it. 

"We've been so out of the loop that bringing us back in feels refreshing," Keonhee said. 

“Who knew messaging apps could have so much drama,” Seoho supplemented, clicking repeatedly on an Apeach sticker, the taps chiming in time with the notifications coming from Hwanwoong’s phone. Then, Seoho stopped as a notification appeared from YouTube and he seemed to become swiftly engrossed in a gaming video. Hwanwoong and Keonhee were both expecting him to stay up late later while he installed the dozens of things he’d already bookmarked. Hwanwoong already promised to not stay up with him, and Keonhee told Seoho that he would nag him to sleep either way. 

“Speaking of dramas!” Keonhee interrupted, phone nearly flying out of his hands if not for his reflexes and Seoho reaching over to push it down, “What are some we can watch?” 

“Depends on what you like,” Dongju answered. He’d been watching a fair amount, and felt relieved at the fact that he’d have a decent answer for them in this aspect.

It turned out that Keonhee liked sad movies, and Hwanwoong liked sitcoms more. Seoho didn’t care much for either, already endeared to video streaming instead, but he did share Hwanwoong’s preference. 

Geonhak knocked on the door as Dongju began sharing a list of dramas he’d watched recently, and Geonhak wasn’t surprised — though there was definitely a satisfied lilt to the smile he gave them as he saw them crowded around each other. “I don’t recommend that one, actually,” he said as he entered, seamlessly joining the conversation. In a brief moment, the door behind him opened as well and Youngjo exited his own room and added himself to the fray.

Seoho had sat up from where he was lying on the floor, scooting over to make space for Youngjo and Geonhak. Hwanwoong moved closer to Keonhee, who slid flush to Dongju.

And then they were talking, crowding each other’s space but still loose enough that any of them could slip out of the huddle if they wanted to. 

None of them did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> now we have pinkwoong!!! some soft moments in between :')))) and they're hanging out !!! just some lads having fun   
> if you liked it, feel free to leave a kudos or comment hehehehe,,,  
> i hope you guys have/had a good day and may the week be kind to you !


	23. twenty three.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi!! again, unbeta-ed chapter, so all errors are mine! there are some parts here that talks about scars and nightmares in passing, but just in case! I hope you guys enjoy it :')

They found routine.

It didn’t matter to them, the line that separated days from years. Time moved differently, and they weaved around it with practice. The line blurred most moments, meaning little more than dust settling in the wind. 

Youngjo realized exactly how it seemed to disappear when more than a week passed and it had felt as if Hwanwoong and his coven had already been living alongside them for half of Youngjo’s life. It felt slightly off-kilter, the surreality of it, but he felt its truth in his mind, and he couldn’t dislodge the feeling of comfort that settled beside his heart. 

His room had never been lonely, often frequented by Geonhak and Dongju as he did the same for them. But now he would have Keonhee knocking on his door, asking to lie down on the plush bed and get a stronger internet signal. Seoho would appear in the living room, changing the channels Youngjo was attentively watching with a knowing smirk on his lips but wide eyes. Hwanwoong would stand outside the door for a few moments and Youngjo would go up to it himself and open it, looking down at the other and helpfully telling Hwanwoong whatever it was that he came to ask about.

They made a place for themselves, but not in the way that dislodged the sanctity of what Youngjo’s coven already had. Instead, they seemed to fill in whatever Youngjo hadn’t noticed was empty in the house. A few days in, Hwanwoong had stumbled onto the latch for the basement and Seoho had subsequently found the attic entrance. They came knocking on Youngjo’s door, something eager and excited in their eyes, and Keonhee followed behind them with intrigue. Youngjo had taken his keys and opened the basement first, showing them the array of materials he kept stored there and the spaces he mostly ignored. (There were altars, and cement rooms, and questionable stains he’d never been able to wash out with cleaner. His family was an old one, and while he had lived alone at that home, he’d still had visitors. He didn’t find it odd, nor did he feel disgust — he simply didn’t share that practice with some of the elders in his family.)

Seoho, though, had taken to it. The first time he had laid eyes on it, Youngjo had seen a sparkle almost reminiscent of Hwanwoong’s, a flare of ardor. He hadn’t needed to ask anything, picking up granite and marbled containers with the familiarity of living, and he’d swiped dust off of them, revealing shining materials underneath. Hwanwoong had watched them and lit a candle he found there, snuffing it out after a moment. (It had smelled of carnations.) Keonhee had commented incessantly about how creepy it was, and Hwanwoong laughed at him. Still, Hwanwoong went over to Keonhee and let the taller vampire wrap his lanky hands around Hwanwoong. Seoho didn’t seem to notice, fixated on the setups and the history that they kept there in their hands.

Seoho would sometimes invite Hwanwoong and Keonhee, or Youngjo, or Dongju and Geonhak. He would ask them if they would mind going there with him, and they would doubtlessly join him. He would sit in its silence, making small conversation as he seemed to arrange the artifacts, singing to them. Sometimes, he would play a video from his phone and then show them what the tools were, fascinated even though he seemed to be fully aware of what they were.

(They had wanted to ask, but Hwanwoong had noticed their curiosity and pulled them away from Seoho. The oldest vampire’s humming was background to Hwanwoong gently telling them not to ask, with a smile, with something stuck just between his tongue and teeth, prepared for protection even if he found safety in Youngjo and his coven. They didn’t pry, and even Hwanwoong knew that they wouldn’t. It made something in Youngjo more confident instead.

Hwanwoong  _ asked _ them.)

The attic had been less dusty. Keonhee had also fervently begun asking about whatever it was that he picked up was, most of the time something that Youngjo had brought from his family home. Some gifts were also there which he’d grown out of, like the occasional cracked mirror or old clothes. He kept them, still, just as something to remember. Hwanwoong had found a full mirror in particular with an ornate frame of gilded metal, and he wiped off the slight grey. He tapped Youngjo on the shoulder and the other had looked at him inquisitively. When Hwanwoong asked if he could take it to their room, Youngjo agreed and helped Geonhak bring it down after making Hwanwoong refrain from helping.

"My shoulder is already fine!" Hwanwoong had whined, flapping his arms about to prove his point. 

"But your height…" Geonhak had muttered knowingly, prepared for the glare and laugh from Hwanwoong and the subsequent slap to his back.

•────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅────•

Keonhee filled the home with noise, his voice coming from the various rooms at all the hours of the night. They would hear him from the living room, reactions loud and boisterous as he yelled outrage at whatever drama Dongju had suggested for him to watch. Hwanwoong often laughed before shushing the other, and Geonhak and Youngjo would walk to the living room with their laptops or their phones, joining Seoho on the floor in playing whatever game Geonhak had shared with Seoho. Keonhee sang alongside Seoho, the harmony of their voices pleasant to their ears.

And where they couldn't move, when someone rang the doorbell unannounced, and Hwanwoong couldn't stop staring crimson-gazed at the door until Youngjo assured him and let him see it was just Dongmyeong — then Youngjo and his coven would make themselves known. When Keonhee fumbled with something, or when a loud noise suddenly ripped through the house and startled him, Dongju would sit with him and talk, gentle and conversational and with a laugh as he held Keonhee's minutely trembling hands. When Hwanwoong was asleep and Keonhee was dreaming, and Seoho was staring unmovingly at the beads of the morning sky, Geonhak would find himself next to the other and offer gentle touches, and Seoho would remember to start breathing again.

But mostly, they just seemed to  _ click _ . It didn't matter that they were complements, didn't matter that they somehow made each other more complete than they already had been and formed images out of their pieces. It didn't mean anything that what Hwanwoong's coven had lost, Youngjo's coven could give them. It didn't mean anything when they saw that whatever Youngjo had forgotten, or what Geonhak couldn't say, or what Dongju never understood could be painted in a clear stroke by Hwanwoong and Keonhee and Seoho. (It did matter, it meant everything. More than they could say, and so they didn't say it. 

Youngjo let his words coat themselves in playfulness and let the others peel back the layers and realize how much Youngjo's, "I love you," and the subsequent smirks and winks were more than those three words and simple gestures. Seoho steeped in the acceptance of them realizing his laughter and his smiles were more than reaction, that they were something important to him and for him, and that he shared them most freely because he knew he could. Geonhak's comfort was infectious, but it was shy and afraid, and they understood that his presence was him being there for  _ being _ there, conscious and worried and wordlessly seeking their company. 

Keonhee was loud, incapable of ever really mincing his words, but he stuttered with them, stumbling over the syllables and forming new ideas, and somehow they all understood what he meant. Even faster, sometimes, than he understood them himself, and so he looked at them with fondness — something he understood with clarity. Hwanwoong still kept his secrets close to his chest, and yet they still didn't ask, didn't pry, let him move closer to them and silently lean his head on their shoulders. But he promised them stories, and he shared them, and he trusted them when they listened with their eyes and ears and made him feel alive. Dongju was more honest, but he was still young and unsure of that honesty. He would feign annoyance but relish in the shining eyes that told him they understood it was his relief, that his unimpressed expressions meant he'd known them to be more awe-inspiring than they let themselves be.) 

What was important was that they enjoyed each other's company, and that they enjoyed each other for simply being themselves. (Somehow, really, those things were inseparable.)

Dongju’s nagging nature became even more apparent when among the trio who seemed to constantly make a mess of themselves. Seoho found ways to do something that Dongju would comment about — at first politely, shy advice from the fledgling, before discovering that Seoho had a penchant for looking innocent when he was teasing. Dongju had fought back with his own attitude, and Seoho hadn’t seemed off-put by it. Keonhee and Hwanwoong were insufferable with their teasing and chaos. That was something Dongju had learnt — Hwanwoong's coven was almost inconceivably annoying. It was endearing.

Geonhak enjoyed their company. He never quite said it, even to Youngjo or Dongju, but he knew they both knew. Especially with Youngjo's perceptive nature and Dongju being a common recipient of his affections. He didn't quite know if the other three realized it, and so he casually, with anxious hands and a racing heart, asked if they did. In a small voice, he'd fumbled with his words, slightly embarrassed but also not at all, "You guys are fun to be around."

They all turned to him in a beat and looked slightly stricken, especially Hwanwoong. But then they softened, and Keonhee answered, "Thanks. You, too."

•────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅────•

Even for Seoho it felt unlikely. It sometimes still felt like that phantom unreality, but the motion of repetition was starting to make itself known. The footsteps were always the same but not quite. Just different enough to realize there was a source, but not staggering enough that he thought it wasn’t real. After years of grass and blood and survival as a pattern, the new habit was harder to grasp but grasped nonetheless. He surrounded himself with the blanket of his coven, comfortable there beyond words, but Youngjo, Geonhak, and Dongju — he began learning that they could be comfort as well. He laughed freely around them, no longer afraid of the repercussions of his actions from the first night he’d met them. (Hwanwoong had begun glancing at him more often, an eyebrow quirked up at him. Seoho smiled in return, knowing he wasn’t fooling the younger at all.)

Keonhee was easier to fall into it, always ready for whatever it was that life decided he would have to face again. He’d just been glad that it had been kindness. He woke up every day with a more concrete feeling of the sheets under him and the mattress, more aware of the sensation of Hwanwoong’s hand holding his over the covers. It was easier to remember that Seoho might have gone to the living room or asked Geonhak something about the game he was playing. More importantly, he could be happy, as happy as he wanted to be. He’d always thrived on the joy of those around him, and on providing joy, and in being there where there was rain and tears and offer light and shade. 

Hwanwoong still woke up with his ears ringing and nightmares forming at the periphery. But he became accustomed to the feeling of his nails digging into soft cotton and of heavy curtains being drawn. He woke up with a tremor in his hands and he remembered to stumble into the bathroom and clutch the porcelain sink, to watch his hands clench on white stone and realize with almost frightening clarity that he was not where he thought he was. He could walk to Geonhak's room, simply sitting in silence and having Geonhak look at him. Then, Geonhak would show him something on his phone, or offer him a snack, and Hwanwoong would accept. Or Dongju would hug him, simple and smiling. 

Sometimes, Hwanwoong would build up the courage and knock on Youngjo's room to simply sit there. He would walk over to Youngjo and flop onto the comfortable mattress with a smile before scooting close to Youngjo and resting there. Sometimes, Hwanwoong just talked to him. Not about the questions they wanted to ask each other — not yet. Just simpler things, like how Youngjo's family was, why Youngjo was in the forest. Youngjo always answered honestly, Hwanwoong knew, and he seemed to persistently smile through his words. 

It felt seamless when Youngjo began calling whatever he had as  _ theirs.  _ Felt natural, felt as easy as anything when it began shifting into the moment when Dongju would wake up in the middle of the day and they would hear his footsteps disappear into the other wing of the house, and then later Seoho would be carrying a sleeping Dongju back to his room. Keonhee began to barrel into them, loudly announcing whatever it was that he wanted, and Geonhak would tease him. Youngjo would lounge beside Seoho, and the other would quietly move to show whatever it was that Seoho was occupied with. 

And Youngjo — Youngjo noticed a few days too late that something had started to flutter in his chest. 

Too late to realize that Hwanwoong hadn’t always been that bright. Too late to push down the affection that began blossoming, the playful smirks and the challenging fun he poked at the other. 

That even though he was golden and beautiful, Youngjo hadn’t before woken up to the thought of holding Hwanwoong’s hands and pressing a soft, slow, tender kiss to scarred skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heHEHEHEHE,,,, the eventual relationships and slow build tags make themselves known :') also, lots of purposeful time skip stuff/unclear time frames! If you need clarifications, feel free to ask in the comments!  
> They're spending quality time!!! Sharing each other's space!! even More bonding :))) and woong is finally free of his bandages ehe,,,  
> as always, thank you guys so much for reading and I do hope you liked it !!! feel free to leave feedback if u have the time qwq have a great week!!!!


	24. twenty four.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter is unbetaed!! all errors are mine and feel free to mention any in the comments. also! I hope you enjoy this chapter!!! :')

When he realized it, he stayed wide-eyed and unblinking at the ceiling. He’d sat up in the next moment and stared at his hands, played with the necklace that Hwanwoong had given him, and then let out an amused, incredulous sound. Then, one of astonishment, because he was  _ in love. _

He hadn’t expected it, and he thought maybe that was his fault — Hwanwoong was  _ beautiful. _ He might’ve been a fool for not realizing exactly how beautiful, though. Youngjo wasn’t sure if that was his mind or his heart’s decision, but he felt his chest burn at the thought of Hwanwoong’s smile, at the kind eyes and the gentle care he showered his coven mates with. The gentle tone of his voice, the laughter and the bright energy he had after the days. A gentle presence, comforted and comforting, watching and being watched, all in a bright coalescence of captivation.

Youngjo had always loved, deeper than any of them, more frequently than all of his coven combined, but he’d had the penchant for not asking others for the same. And it wasn’t that Youngjo meant to do it, only that that was how he was — kind, and with stars in his eyes. He’d fallen in love before. But it hadn’t ever made Youngjo himself wonder. 

Youngjo’s love was a fickle thing; it was always there, ready and reminiscent of everyone he’d met. He loved everyone as genuinely as he could, and the words of those were calming for the older to say. It ran deep, sincerely, but it was afraid to show too much of itself. It was a default, background noise to whatever Youngjo did. 

But it was different, somehow, for Hwanwoong. Something that reminded Youngjo of the way his father looked at his mother, to the way that Yonghoon laughed with Hyungu, the held hands between Hongjoong and Seonghwa and Wooyoung and San. A reminder of hushed voices and gentle confessions, of starlit nights filled with fireflies and the thrum of life. The wordless offering of open arms and the chaste glances shared, the breathing over each other’s skin in mirth.

Youngjo had always been a romantic, a believer of the stars and the fates they weaved. He believed in the ways that Selene would morph stardust into flames, place it gently in their chests, and let them find each other. 

And so he chuckled to himself, wrapped fingers around the necklace, let himself bask in the warmth of it, in the embers of his unknown and secret confession, and he trusted in whatever it was that would come his way. He’d let himself fall in love. Wordlessly, bravely, with everything he was and couldn’t yet be. 

But that didn’t mean he had to say anything about it.

•────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅────•

The house wasn’t silent, the past weeks. Even more days spent in recognizing the safety of walls and of company, of lights in the night and air in the morning. Even more hours spent in each other’s company, until the point where the thresholds were broken, and the age they hid behind their souls began to morph again. Second after second that could become minutes, or that were, spent beside each other’s and occupying each other’s space, forming humanity where it had been torn from them.

A drawing out of seconds, of words becoming sentences and of laughter becoming music. Moments that began with fear, with apprehension, learning that the kindness wasn’t fleeting, was persistent in them, that Youngjo and Geonhak and Dongju’s patience wasn’t limited to the first days. A further appeasement of the feeling in Hwanwoong and his coven that they could make a place for themselves there, that Youngjo allowed them that, because he wanted them to have it, to have what he had given Geonhak and Dongju. 

They understood, more and more, in the time that they could, formed promises with one another and sealed it with laughter and smiles. They woke up to one another, fell asleep to each other. Trust was built as much as it was given, and they had already done the latter.

It was filled with noise and of life, however ironic that may have been. Keonhee’s laughter paired with Seoho’s and the sound built itself up in volume, reverberating through the house in a friendly tone and making Geonhak walk to wherever they were and join them, his own low and loud laughter an even balance to their higher voices. Hwanwoong’s voice appearing more and more frequently, less restrained by the beliefs of when he could and couldn’t be happy, because he simply  _ was. _ Dongju bantering with Keonhee, who replied with his own feverish retorts and rebuttals, to the replying sounds of amusement from Youngjo and Hwanwoong and Geonhak. 

They would hunt, or simply leave and breathe the air of the forest and of the night. They would listen to the night owls, to the faraway growls of predators chasing deer, to the rustling of grass. They would chase the thrill, or they would simply lay under the moon.

Sometimes, when Youngjo decided it would hurt them none, he asked them all to join him in helping Dongju hunt. They would watch the fledgling and cage the deer, letting Dongju chase it and sate his hunger. Sometimes, when it was too fast, Seoho would dart off and the gentle impact of the deer's body would resound against the grass. Seoho always offered it to Dongju, when that happened, and Dongju had easily learnt Seoho's form of thoughtfulness and accepted with a smile.

Hwanwoong lit candles every night from the collection they’d bought, and Youngjo began staying in their room to relax under the aromas, letting it permeate into the atmosphere. He would lay beside them, listening to Seoho tapping away at his laptop, to the humming and the synchronous singing of Keonhee to whatever OST was coming from his phone. He would let the loud silence fill his ears and make himself comfortable, and he would stare at Hwanwoong, smiling softly at the sight of the other falling asleep against his coven mates. 

Eventually, Youngjo found Hwanwoong’s frame listing onto his, and he arranged the other comfortably, letting the smaller figure rest against him as he tried his best to not move. Keonhee had looked at him for a brief moment before smiling at him and then ruffling Hwanwoong’s hair. 

(Sometimes, brightly, with the new memories that they’d made, Youngjo forgot how Hwanwoong had been bleeding the first time he’d seen him, how Keonhee had been covered in crimson and how Seoho’s clothes had been torn.)

Seoho and Geonhak began to endlessly bicker, their personalities clashing and meshing in the same breath. Geonhak’s voice would run through the hallways and Seoho would reply from wherever he was, an inane reply which made Geonhak smile as he gritted his teeth and locked his arms around Seoho, charmed bracelet glinting and ever present on his wrist. They were competitive over the smallest things, many of which Youngjo had been witness to. They often had headphones or earphones plugged into their laptops or phones and they would start hissing under their breath to one another, swearing at their companion. Youngjo quickly became accustomed to the event, looking at them unimpressed and smiling before facing away, sometimes locking eyes with Keonhee who was shrugging. 

Youngjo and Keonhee had an odd agreement of teasing each other. It had grown simply through spending time, through thriving off of each other’s personality. Keonhee was a booming force, a tidal wave of positivity that Youngjo adored. Keonhee would squint at Youngjo from across the room, throw a grain of rice, and Youngjo would hold him in an embrace and shake him, both of them laughing. Keonhee appeared when Youngjo was caught staring at nothing — thinking endlessly about laughter and smiles and pink — an eyebrow cocked and mischievous as he wiggled. Youngjo would laugh again at the action and then hug the other, and Keonhee made himself comfortable there. 

Dongju appointed Hwanwoong as his pillow, which the older at first looked at him apprehensively for, but the action gradually became second nature, Dongju wrapping his arms around Hwanwoong when he saw the shorter man early in the morning. Sometimes, Dongju would drag Hwanwoong to his room in the middle of the night and take a nap, where the other would then hug Dongju’s plushies to himself as he scanned through his phone. And sometimes, when the night had been kind to them and their feet were tired of carrying their happiness, Dongju and Geonhak and Youngjo would sleep in the beds beside Hwanwoong’s, Hwanwoong and his coven mates sleeping in one bed, Seoho’s back to Youngjo and Dongju, Keonhee and Hwanwoong wrapped around one another. Geonhak would fall asleep on the bed farthest from the trio, though Dongju would sometimes crawl over to him. Youngjo was content wherever, simply happy that the others had allowed them that sense of closeness. 

(They would wordlessly let themselves be ushered out by Keonhee when sobbing started and Seoho was cradling Hwanwoong to his chest, when shadows started forming around Hwanwoong until Seoho and Keonhee could calm them. And Youngjo wouldn’t ask, wouldn’t try to stay, because Hwanwoong would look at them with tear-streaked eyes and silently promise he would tell them some day.)

The living room started filling with whatever things Hwanwoong and Seoho and Keonhee would bring from their rooms, random pens and pencils appearing and scraps of paper, small scribbles on notes and even one of the fairy lights. And Hwanwoong would start to find shirts in his closet which didn’t fit, which smelled of muted cologne. Keonhee would trip over small plushes and thin books, picking them up and leaving them on the dressers for Dongju to grab later. Seoho had once stolen Geonhak’s laptop as a joke but it had become a fixture in the room instead, always found there even when Seoho himself took it to Geonhak’s room.

“So we  _ are _ one coven, now, right?” Seoho had asked, in the middle of Keonhee telling them a story from hunting elk, and Youngjo paused. 

“Yeah,” Hwanwoong answered easily, sipping languidly at the bubble tea in his hands.

Youngjo racked his brain for the semantics of that — realizing that it had been a fortnight of them spending their space in one another’s breaths.

A fortnight, Youngjo remembered. 

Covens had formed in that time, when food and drink was shared and they were invited. When it had been history, and kindness was less universal than magic, when vampires were used to becoming human instead of choosing to be. (Warmth appeared, somehow, always, and that was when they decided to run for shelter.)

Sometimes you simply promised each other, let the forests lay witness to the words you uttered into the sky and let the clouds hear. You could take them by the hand and ask them to join you, to promise those words between two souls. 

But a fortnight — that was the time it took for Selene to take notice, to weave her magic in a lock around those that wanted it without words. When you spent fourteen nights basking under the same moonlight, weaving cracked and crimson strings between each other and promising care and kindness, she spilled her tears and cast brightness that not even Helios could hope to challenge. Covens were made not out of convenience, not in practicality — they were made in spite of it. 

Most packs didn’t become covens for that reason — convenience didn’t last two weeks, didn’t thunder through fifteen days. 

But honesty and generosity lasted lifetimes, formed knots around their souls and swore loyalty to bloodlessness. 

Youngjo didn't know when somehow he had become the one to forget the excitement of them staying. But maybe he didn't need to think about it, because Hwanwoong noticed his thoughtful gaze and hummed in wordless assurance. It had been a given, he decided. 

Still, Dongju wasn't familiar with it, and though he didn't want to bother them, or break the silent comprehension, they could all see the confusion in his eyes. Hwanwoong, who was closest to him, turned to him and softly told the fledgling what they meant. Hwanwoong's tone was even and light, gentle and smiling as he said, "If vampires spend two weeks together, we become… magically? Bonded as coven mates."

Youngjo chuckled at Hwanwoong's unsure words and inserted himself into the conversation. 

"You're my coven mate because I asked you to be, remember Ju?" Youngjo said. Dongju nodded and hummed, attentive and absently playing with Hwanwoong's hands.

Yongjo continued, "And I asked Geonhak as well."

Geonhak nodded this time.

“Asking means a promise, and you form the bond consciously,” Youngjo began. “But sometimes, you don’t have to ask. It’s just something that happens, and you can choose to not call yourselves coven mates, but when you’ve spent two weeks with another vampire, your souls become more attuned to one another. Like magic,” Youngjo told him, and there was an air of awe in the way the words filled the curve of his lips, adoration and endearment. “Because two weeks can mean a lifetime.”

"We're coven mates now!" Keonhee interjected happily after a beat of poignant silence, of Dongju’s eyes shining in delight, and Keonhee looked so very honest in his joy that Dongju wouldn't even doubt the word. 

(They didn't want to, they never had, but to see the comfort that it brought Keonhee reminded them all that that was what they themselves had wanted. 

They had wanted each other happy and willing to stay, to wake and walk and breathe of their own volition.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi hi hi!!! nhehehehe,,, Lil bit of romance!! it isn't really too big, and one could opt to read it as platonic too, but!! I hope it made sense heh ;;;  
> Even more bonding time as well, and COVEN !!! heh. :') I do hope it made sense sjdnsn  
> I hope you guys liked it and if you did leave a comment and some kudos if you'd like! I hope you all have a good day.


	25. twenty five.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiya!! as always, unbeta-ed chapter here !  
> just as a warning — there's a mention of eating birds, so if you feel uncomfortable about that, read with caution! It's very fleeting, but I'd rather stay safe  
> I hope you guys like it :')

When he thought about it for more than a few moments, let his mind wrap around it instead of a pair of bright eyes and kind laughter, Youngjo understood why what had been  _ his _ so quickly became  _ theirs _ in the process. 

_ His coven. _ He repeated the words in his head, letting themselves make their home there. Digging in the vowels, planting syllables and watching them form roots. 

He’d nearly forgotten how he had been with Geonhak, the almost violent desire he had to simply have someone else happy beside him, possibly  _ because _ of him. It had almost slipped in between his hands, the exhilaration in his lungs when he would see smiles or hear gentle laughter. But he could remember the way that he had begun realizing what he would do to see Geonhak smile, to see the other stop startling when Youngjo opened the door or when wolves howled outside. He would hand Geonhak warm glasses and platefuls of food, offer everything that he could. He would draw out his hands and patiently wait for Geonhak to take it, time and again, until Geonhak was pulling Youngjo towards him in a store and then pushing him away with a mischievous glint in his eyes, and Youngjo felt warm and happy and content in letting himself be taken care of as he took care of the other. 

And Youngjo and Geonhak had offered Dongju all that he needed — all that the fledgling  _ needed _ to want. They had offered him books and company, drinks and hugs. Youngjo, sometimes, could be a fool. And he was, if he’d forgotten to what extent he would go just to have someone smile. (But not at his expense. Not anymore. Not since Geonhak had pulled him into his room, stared him in the eyes, and asked why Youngjo was hurting just as much as he was.)

He had promised to raze valleys for Hwanwoong, for his happiness. For his coven’s. 

(Call him naive, or self-centered, he wasn’t either of those.

He simply didn’t understand why it was that anger was repaid with anger, and yet kindness had never been rewarded with kindness. 

After all, he’d been lonely then. 

Now, now he wasn’t. Now he was just  _ kind. _ To a fault, some would say, but Youngjo would disagree. He’d had his share of pain, of blood, and he learnt from it as easily as everyone else. Now he didn’t feel lonely. But he could feel it from others, could understand that chain around their hands, and he’d known how to unlock himself from it, and he could teach whoever he wanted to those same ways to unravel, to fall apart into breathing.)

But it had been Hwanwoong, and Seoho, and Keonhee as well. It had been them letting themselves shine through, of Keonhee pulling along his coven —  _ Youngjo’s,  _ now, too — and them letting themselves be pulled. It had been them listening to the invitations and taking the steps towards them, to letting themselves be comforted. 

It was Hwanwoong appearing suddenly in front of Geonhak in the living room while Youngjo watched the television, a hairbrush in Hwanwoong's small hands and a tangled mess of pink hair on his head. It was Dongju opening the door later to a snickering Youngjo and noticing Geonhak tying Hwanwoong's hair in a corner of the living room and furrowing his brows. 

"What are you doing?" Dongju had asked, and Geonhak flushed, flustered as he tried to wrap the hair band around Hwanwoong's hair again. Geonhak's own hair was tied at the top of his head, a bright yellow band holding the strands upright. Youngjo had a pair of pink hair ties in his hair. Hwanwoong just looked pleased, hands polite on his lap as he looked fixedly at Geonhak. 

"I asked him to tie my hair," Hwanwoong answered easily, smiling, still staring at Geonhak. There was a childish, challenging look in his eyes, something they had become familiar with over the weeks. Geonhak gave a chuff of laughter and pushed lightly at Hwanwoong. Hwanwoong exhaled faux pain, holding his shoulder, offence painted over his eyes. 

"What if I was hurt!" Hwanwoong said. 

Geonhak, smiling but brows knitted together, bickered back, "You aren’t, of course I wouldn't push you if I saw you were injured."

(They still didn't know, they still hadn't asked. None of it mattered to them, anymore, all that mattered was Seoho and Hwanwoong and Keonhee.

Youngjo had learnt through the weeks the stories that they wanted to share, what they knew were themselves, and that was what was important. They knew that Keonhee  _ really _ didn’t like pigeons, though he’d eaten them before. They learnt that Keonhee liked stealing Dongju’s Ryan plushie, much to the pleased chagrin of the fledgling. They learnt that Seoho could name the elements of the periodic table with frightening accuracy, splitting them into chronological order of discovery. They’d seen how Seoho would climb into trees and hide there from Hwanwoong, when the smaller boy was feeling particularly testy. They learnt of the way that Hwanwoong would hunt, with a grace in his step that he had shown them once, that left Youngjo with stars in his eyes and Hwanwoong glowing under the moonlight after flashing like lightning through foliage and landing soundlessly.)

And so calling them  _ his _ coven, as he looked fondly at all of them, at Dongju rushing over to fix Hwanwoong’s hair — it would take time but it felt right to Youngjo.

•────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅────•

Yonghoon’s coven was not Youngjo’s, and there were reasons for this. For one, while Yonghoon and Youngjo’s covens were close, family as much as family could be — it wasn’t quite the same. Yonghoon had been built by the others, and he took those foundations that he had been given and he built something new with it. It was admirable, a temple of them loving one another and finding who they could love. Youngjo’s coven had been baseless. It hadn’t had purpose, not really, it hadn’t had the hands that were prepared to hold it when he’d made it. It had been thrust into his heart, and he accepted it and asked kindly of it. It had been him walking about aimlessly until rustling leaves had called his attention and he had seen Geonhak, face lit by flame and something peaceful there. 

Yonghoon lived among humans, and Youngjo couldn’t do that. Not in the way that he wanted to, and most of the times, he didn’t need to. He was a Pureblood, and though he admired company — he didn’t seek it from anyone. He had enough magic where he was, in the woods, under the sky, with the moon watching over him and the doors open and Geonhak and Dongju. (And now Seoho, and Keonhee, and Hwanwoong.)

But mostly what was so different between them was that Youngjo simply  _ felt _ differently about his coven. It was as much of a home as he had made, as much of a home as the one that Yonghoon had in the city. 

But Yonghoon didn’t have Hwanwoong, or Keonhee, or Seoho. Yonghoon didn’t have Geonhak, or Dongju, not in the way that Yonghoon had Hyungu or Giwook or Harin or Dongmyeong.

Because Youngjo’s coven was  _ his, _ and Yonghoon had his own. 

And Youngjo couldn’t quite put it into words, but he  _ knew _ why it was.

It was the dark stain of crimson, the ones they washed away from one another. It was each other’s weight and their chains, and they’d found the keys in the hands of the other. It had been problems they had no solutions to, screaming that they couldn’t silence until they found each other. It was the anger they all had, simmering in a sea of wanting, calmed by on another in a way that was simply written in the stars.

You wouldn’t breathe when you were drowning. Youngjo wouldn’t hold onto false hope when he’d had all the hope he needed in Geonhak, in the lesson of the possibility of new lives being made. He didn’t need childish laughter when Dongju let his voice tear joy into the night, render loneliness apart from within when the younger began to feel it wrap around him. Youngjo’s smile could tire, and Dongju would notice it as quickly as Youngjo could realize that tears were gathering in Dongju’s eyes. 

He didn’t need a reminder of happiness when he could find it bubbling from Keonhee, lit inside the other like a flame and shining against the shroud of sad darkness and coating all of them in a yellow glow of warmth. He didn’t need curiosity when it swam inside of Seoho’s thoughts like water, filling space with questions and wondering eyes, reaching out to Youngjo with them falling from his lips and making Youngjo smile. He didn’t need any more strength than Hwanwoong’s words, resolute as the younger vampire spread his love and care for everyone around him, an unspoken something in the way that Hwanwoong seemed to remember everything — good or bad, and still he accepted you for those.

(Youngjo didn’t need anything except Hwanwoong’s smile and everything that came with it.)

Youngjo was familiar with the feeling of disappointment, of not expecting anything. But he thought that maybe, just once, Selene had taken her generosity and let it fall around his coven. 

•────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅────•

Coven mate or not, Dongju told Dongmyeong everything. 

Dongmyeong told Dongju most things, and Dongju told Dongmyeong  _ everything. _ They shared ruthlessly, phones ringing with each other’s voices throughout the day. Youngjo would hear the gentle chatter of Hyungu and Yonghoon, their voices filtering alongside Dongmyeong’s as Dongju talked to his brother just before the sky rose into gold. And Keonhee would hear the even, droning voice from Dongju when he walked by, a gentle narration of the day, or week, or however long it was since the two had last talked.

When Dongmyeong would visit — something that happened more often, because Youngjo would invite them, Keonhee would ask if they were free, because Youngjo found something settle happily in his chest when he could realize that this home was his coven’s and theirs to  _ share _ — he would greet Dongju with a bright grin and everyone else even brighter, shining and warm under their gazes. Dongmyeong retained his shining to Hwanwoong, especially keen on teasing the other with silent reverence. Hwanwoong became used to it, and Dongmyeong was as kind as his twin, the both of them sharing a childish curiosity and the same youthful kindness. Hwanwoong fought back with his own fervor of comfort, laughter on his lips and mirth in his eyes. 

But that was never to say that Dongmyeong or Dongju were juvenile, because they had held each other when others would not, and they had become aware of the weight of something more than simply just your woes on your shoulders. 

And so Dongmyeong was smiling when he mentioned, “There are some weird things happening in the city,” a feigning nonchalance in his words that had Dongju looking up at him. 

“Weird things,” Dongju repeated. Dongmyeong nodded. Dongju’s expression was clearly unimpressed, and so Dongmyeong laughed. It sounded tight around his throat, and he glanced quickly at Giwook. Giwook was caught in conversation with Geonhak and Harin, but still the young witch nodded almost imperceptibly. The action hadn’t gone unnoticed, Seoho and Hwanwoong immediately keenly aware of whatever next left Dongmyeong’s mouth.

“The magic’s all weird. Giwook’s been struggling with his potions and spellcasting. Yonghoon hyung is pretending it’s all okay but we’ve seen shattered glass everywhere and he never even leaves his vials out.” 

Seoho was quick to draw closer to Dongmyeong, his brows creased slightly in worry. “None of you are getting hurt, though?” Seoho asked, and Dongmyeong looked up at him and nodded, smiling. 

“Giwook’s been getting a little… unsettled, is all. Yonghoon hyung, too, but you know how he is,” Dongmyeong said, and Seoho hummed thoughtfully.

“Is there any reason you’ve noticed? Going off of how you’re talking, it doesn’t seem like that’s happened before,” Hwanwoong asked, curious and gentle, but Dongju noticed something behind his words. Something similar to the shaking breaths when he woke up under the sun. Something similar to what made Seoho turn sharp eyes onto their coven mate —  _ theirs, _ Dongju thought, repeating it, still a little breathless at that sentiment — and made Seoho distract Hwanwoong. 

“Not personally. Other covens and friends around us are getting bad vibes. Mostly witches or other magic-affinity people,” Dongmyeong answered. He laughed, “You know, vampires are good at seeing it but not really the whole using it.”

Hwanwoong nodded absently at Dongmyeong’s comment. “You should probably get some charms up,” Hwanwoong suggested, and his hands were fiddling with his amulet, something Dongju hadn’t seen him do in a handful of days.

•────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅────•

Youngjo frowned when Yonghoon finished sighing out his concerns, quickly rectifying his expression and offering a smile at the other’s distress to try and calm him. 

“I’m worried if something is going to  _ happen,” _ Yonghoon ground out through puffed cheeks. “I don’t want them to get hurt,” he added, shoulders dropping. 

Youngjo understood the sentiment deeply, with all that he was. His hands fiddled with the necklace above his heart.

He refused to let the pit in his chest form any more, refused to let it swallow any more of his air. Tense magic, smoke in the air, flames in water and leaves falling from trees. 

“We’ll keep each other safe and keep in touch. Like we always do,” Youngjo said, promising.

(He had more to lose now. He wasn’t willing to lose them.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!! A little bit more character introspection in the first portion ! I hope the narrative blocks aren't getting redundant or anything jsbsbsjsj  
> On the other hand,,,, story progression! More stuff happening! onewe :') nhehehhe  
> I hope you guys liked this chapter! If you did, please feel free to write a comment or leave some kudos! Have a good week!


	26. twenty six.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unbeta-ed work as well!! hope you guys like it !
> 
> as a warning: there are passing mentions of nightmares here along with a trauma response!

When Yonghoon and his coven had teleported away, Youngjo turned to his coven with a slight grimace in his smile. “That’s never happened before. There hasn’t been an issue here in at least half a century,” he told them. 

“Magical imbalances aren’t something that happens in general,” Geonhak muttered thoughtfully. “What with night creatures moving closer to humans, too. Who would even want to do something like that?”

“Humans might,” Keonhee answered, shrugging. “Not all witches are like Yonghoon or Giwook,” he added, gesturing to the disturbed circle of leaves on the porch, the circle of foliage still thrumming slightly with a mix of purple and blue light. 

"We are  _ safe, _ though," Dongju said, sounding like he was convincing himself. Geonhak gave him a supportive glance, and the rest of their coven nodded. 

"Me and Hwanwoong can take up shifts if you need," Seoho offered, and Youngjo was swiftly reminded once more of how ingrained it was in them to hide in the forests. He never  _ forgot, _ but he'd stopped remembering. "Keonhee probably can too, right?" Seoho followed.

Keonhee nodded agreeably, though his eyes were staring at Youngjo. It was easy to read, his expression, Youngjo or not. 

"You don't need to," Youngjo assured them and let the silence speak for itself. He maintained his smile, maintained kind eyes, but he let the silence of the night split through his words quietly and waited for Seoho to listen. 

Seoho looked at him for a second before shrugging and smiling. Hwanwoong commented, "More sleep for me, then." 

"We could probably go to the city? Check it out if ever Dongmyeong gets even more worried. He doesn't usually mention anything serious like that unless they've all agreed it's worrisome," Dongju said. 

Hwanwoong's response came quickly. "I'm alright with that if everyone else is," he answered. 

"And we could buy those plushies!" Seoho suggested happily. 

Youngjo looked at them, reading his coven's expressions. It hurt, suddenly, when he saw something scared in the way that Hwanwoong held his breath, a furthering of his bright eyes, dulling them in something so familiar but particular to Youngjo. Youngjo wondered when Hwanwoong would tell them, when he would murmur the allusions to a past that was more blood and pain than air and happiness. 

"Next time, if they mention it. I can call in some favors if they bring up feeling unsafe," Youngjo said. Dongju nodded in thanks.

Geonhak muttered, "I'll start cooking our meal," still ruminating about what Yonghoon's coven had told them as they turned away from the door.

The moon hid behind the clouds, slightly.

•────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅────•

That night wasn’t a night where Dongju could walk through the door. Geonhak couldn’t send Seoho a message, Youngjo wouldn’t knock. Still, even when they were everything to one another, becoming that everything, letting each other fill in the cracks, there were still shared somethings that others didn’t have. They understood that there was time to be spent, and that if Hwanwoong and Seoho and Keonhee — if they weren’t ready to give it up to them, let it be witnessed — if they wanted their secrets, they would let them keep those. 

Hwanwoong was quiet when he walked back to their room with Seoho and Keonhee. He hummed absently, hands reaching for his journal and playing with the ribbon there. He took a pen and played with it in his hands before flipping the journal open and scribbling a moon into the corners. 

"If you're blaming yourself I'll punch you," Keonhee said while he folded his dirty clothes and moved away the articles that weren't theirs.

"That's just rude," Hwanwoong replied quickly, expecting the beration and putting the journal down beside him. 

He did, though. A pool of vile acid built in his stomach. His thoughts began running, tarnishing their paths once more with black regret. Images of broken buildings, of golden walls, of bloody pillars. He couldn't let himself breathe, suddenly, self-admonishment making the air smell like copper. It was familiar and strange. He'd become used to it over the decades. Yet somehow, in a few weeks, Youngjo, his coven, had almost made him forget what it was like to feel like that — forget to be constantly wary, forget to be afraid that the next turn in the pavement would split apart into chaos.

He wanted to be angry at himself for it, for forgetting, for forgiving himself and he could, but he didn't want to. 

(Hwanwoong healed. Perhaps through others first, but he did. It was easier, that way — to make Keonhee laugh, to listen to Seoho with an open heart. To watch Geonhak quietly from across the room, offering silent company; to let Dongju wrap arms around him; to smile at Youngjo and watch the other, watch the kindness that poured out of him and coated Hwanwoong. 

Hwanwoong pushed himself, made them smile when he could, let himself fall into the background if he couldn’t. And somehow, that let himself build his own image in his hands, made him capable of putting together pieces that only the others could find. So he had spent hours and days lighting candles, letting it calm those around him and feeling that calm wash over him in turn. He made forests rise in smoke and worlds turn in paper. He burnt wax and rubbed parchment with graphite. At first to appease those around him, to keep them safe, before he'd realized that he began to be able to do it for himself.)

"A month," he huffed to himself. Seoho looked over at him. "Felt like a year."

“That’s good, though. That’s much slower than the last time,” Seoho said. 

“Maybe because we were in a  _ house,” _ Keonhee added from where he was now charging his phone. Hwanwoong repeated his words, voice high and whining, teasing Keonhee and laughing when Keonhee shook him on the bed. 

“Are we even sure it’s them?” Seoho asked, and Hwanwoong’s replying unimpressed expression was instant.

Hwanwoong put up a hand and began counting off on his fingers, “Magical imbalance in a previously undisturbed city, said city being surrounded by a forest, we are in said forest, winter’s starting, and a  _ lot _ of magic folk are getting uneasy. Those are all bad omens and it really does sound like he’s just copy-pasting everything,” Hwanwoong said snarkily. 

Despite the crude statement from the younger, Seoho found it in himself to laugh and smile brightly. It was so very Hwanwoong, unapologetic and confident, a reflection of the decades in between, the time of comfort they'd had — when it had simply been Seoho and Hwanwoong and Keonhee, and the moon had shone the brightest. Again learning how to be unafraid to be himself. 

“Sure, but maybe it is just a witch,” Seoho combated, though even he didn’t expect that to be true. 

“Really intense witch,” Keonhee mumbled, flopping onto the bed beside Hwanwoong.

“Witch with lightsabers,” Hwanwoong added, turning to Keonhee and hugging him.

“Goes pew pew pew?” Seoho joked, and Hwanwoong laughed at that, shaking his head at the absurdity of it. 

(None of them said anything about the unease in their stomachs, about the hundreds of scenarios that filled their minds, about the nightmares that made themselves known again. Keonhee didn’t comment about the lead on his tongue, on the silence that weighed it down as he felt his ears ring with the sounds of the forest, of metal, of a bullet ripping through the air. Seoho ignored the way he dug his nails into his palm, refused to think about crimson fire and seeing that same ember landing on Hwanwoong. Hwanwoong closed his eyes, cloaked himself in darkness, refused to give a name to the shadows and the teeth that he felt suddenly on his skin, tearing at sinew and making him suffocate. 

Somehow, they’d convinced themselves that they didn’t need to think about it — convinced themselves that they had made themselves believe in its nonexistence, at the very least. 

And maybe they were all good liars.

Maybe they were terrible, because they couldn’t lie to each other anymore, and only they themselves were foolish enough to believe their thoughts.)

•────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅────•

The sun was shining when Youngjo woke up to the starting notes of a whimper. It set his senses alight, fire burning through them as the tone rose higher, began making trails in the air. (Sunlight or sound, it didn’t matter, what mattered was that he felt  _ wrong, _ like his heart started beating again just to shatter.) He’d heard the sound before, already, when Hwanwoong would wake up with a curtain over his eyes and snow in his hands, or when Seoho would let growls tear through his throat and they would hear the door slam, when Keonhee would startle in his sleep and they would hear the footfalls start, staying in the atmosphere for the next minutes.

It worried him when it grew louder, ‘til he could hear Seoho and Keonhee’s voices pass the wooden door and the padding of the walls around them and reach under the cracks of floorboards and rise into a cry. 

A knock came from his door, and Youngjo startled, kicking himself into a sitting position, before he heard the nervous tapping of Geonhak’s feet on the floorboards, of Dongju scratching at his plush with blunt fingernails. He stood up to open it, finding Geonhak and Dongju standing there with concern creasing their features. 

“Is he okay?” Geonhak asked, voice hushed, wincing when they heard a sob before he could finish. Youngjo looked uneasily at them, trying to smile before his expression fell and he shook his head and stepped out with them, keeping his steps light as they walked to the room and grimacing at the sounds they could hear from inside.

Hwanwoong sounded  _ hurt. _ It made Youngjo bite down on his lips, draw blood as something inside his chest twisted. 

It was the first time they’d tried to intervene and it filled Youngjo with an anxiety and doubt in himself he hadn’t had to feel for weeks, months, maybe years — but it was also the first time that they’d heard something fall, something hit the floor, a body, maybe, and then Seoho releasing a gritted sound of discomfort. Youngjo held his breath and knocked.

A beat. Two.

The door opened, the lock coming undone in the breath that Youngjo released, and then they all felt themselves get pulled inside the room. Geonhak and Youngjo reflexively grabbed Dongju as Keonhee clutched at their wrists, nearly throwing them inside the room and then shutting the door before dashing over to where Seoho was. 

Youngjo caught his breath. 

Hwanwoong was red-eyed and snarling, so very reminiscent of how he’d looked the first time Youngjo had seen him; Seoho holding him down, the older's lips bitten, and raw, and tired. There were tears in Hwanwoong’s eyes, flaring scarlet and burning, like flames and like the sun, and yet he couldn’t see. Something foreign in his memories rising to those irises, melting everything it found inside. Hwanwoong was never angry, never rage, never violence — he was soft, and kind, and he kept his thoughts in his mind like a key and a cage — and so maybe that was why his nightmares made Youngjo feel untethered, made his chest crack under pain.

Youngjo felt his mouth run dry when he realized he’d never actually seen Hwanwoong in his nightmares — only the aftermath of them, when he was tired, and he was wrung, undone.

Hwanwoong’s nightmares were darkness, emptiness, something stealing all of Hwanwoong’s light and making it turn to ash. The amulet burned brightly against Hwanwoong’s neck, another ember of fire, blazing. It was terrifying not because Hwanwoong was hurting them; it hurt because Hwanwoong was  _ hurting. _

“Can someone get a candle up?” Seoho grunted, pushing down as Hwanwoong suddenly lurched under him and a faint pulse of darkness filled the room. 

Geonhak quickly found the lighter and Dongju wrapped clammy hands around a candle jar, bringing it to Geonhak and letting the other light it, fanning the flame until smoke rose from the wick and then Dongju was gulping down fear, waiting for whatever else would be asked, handing it down to Keonhee who set it beside Hwanwoong’s head and waited.

Hwanwoong was whimpering and thrashing, subdued under Seoho’s hands, the older vampire holding down small and lithe shoulders. 

The necklace flared brightly, suddenly, once, before it fizzled back into ruby, and then Youngjo saw Hwanwoong breathe in, color rush back into his skin and shadows leave, saw him push down memories and nightmares and visions. 

Something golden appeared like a halo around Hwanwoong before he finally seemed to come back to them, blinking up at Seoho with tired eyes. Youngjo wanted desperately to hold him, to take Hwanwoong in his arms and just  _ hold him. _

But he didn’t, and he let Hwanwoong stare at Seoho, let Seoho pull him up into his arms, let Hwanwoong sigh out a shaking breath into Seoho’s chest. Keonhee sat beside them, eyes cloudy with exhaustion, red marks on his arms near his palms, and Youngjo walked over to him and gently offered his hands. Keonhee looked at him and smiled, letting Youngjo look at the scratches. 

“He doesn’t usually do that. We usually get him to wake up much earlier,” Keonhee said, words slightly regretful.

“Do you have the balm we brought here? I know it’ll heal up but…” Youngjo offered, trailing off. Keonhee shook his head and shrugged.

“It’s okay. We should really focus more on Woong, anyway,” Keonhee answered. Youngjo felt chagrined, slightly, though he knew Keonhee didn’t mean it that way. 

“Especially given you guys are probably going to have to deal with his nightmares more often, too,” Keonhee added, appeasing some of the guilt and yet adding confusion, at the same time that Hwanwoong requested, “Could you get me a drink?” 

Youngjo furrowed his brows together, another pool of anxiety growing in his stomach at the vacant look in Hwanwoong’s eyes. Still, he trusted them, and so he left the room and grabbed a bag of blood from the fridge and water. 

He walked back and handed the blood to Hwanwoong, ignored the way that his heart jumped when Hwanoong smiled in thanks, and simply sat down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!! the plot,,, it continues ! I hope you guys are liking this so far !! ^^ I really do look forward to writing future updates. It might slow down a bit but I will try! this is a bit earlier as something might happen tomorrow internet-wise, so!! heh  
> if you liked this, please leave a comment or kudos!!! thank u I hope you're well!!


	27. twenty seven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unbeta-ed as well today !! all errors here are mine ^^
> 
> warnings: still some stuff about nightmares!!

Youngjo wasn’t sure; what he expected. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable — it never was, anymore, when he was around them. It was just simple silence, understood in its bareness. Letting the noise of everything around them speak as their promise to care, because they were all listening either way. Still, this one was expectant, a curve in the path that scared them away from turning.

Hwanwoong drank down the blood, setting the cup down on the carpet before shaking his head at himself and putting the empty glass on the bedside table instead. When he walked back to them his face was absent of apprehension. But then he breathed, and a moment later, he was unsure again, anticipating nothing and everything in the same instant. 

Youngjo smiled at him, soft, and said, "It's okay, Woong. Are you alright?" 

Hwanwoong turned to him, a little fast, a little panicked by the sound, before he realized it was just Youngjo. (Youngjo was always safe.) He nodded tiredly and breathed in once more, fingers fumbling with his necklace and his eyes skirting from Keonhee and Seoho.

Keonhee scooted closer to Hwanwoong and Hwanwoong's arms wrapped around the larger frame. Keonhee let him, calming as well, their breaths slowing and a small smile appearing at the corner of Keonhee's lips. Seoho watched both of them carefully, fondly, and then carefully looked at Youngjo and the coven between them.

"You're our coven mates, and we’d rather not keep things from each other," Seoho hummed. Matter-of-fact, again, undebatable and exact in the way he said it, and it made Youngjo want to smile. "So, Hwanwoong has something to say."

Hwanwoong tried to speak once, twice, thrice, before he finally strung the words together. "I get nightmares more often during winter," Hwanwoong said, rushed, breathless, muffled from behind Keonhee, into cloth. Youngjo turned to him, expression falling at the tone the other spoke with. 

His voice was small, frail, a wind in it that was echoing with fear. 

“And sometimes they get really bad, so I’m sorry if this happens more often. I know you've heard some of them before, but it gets really bad around this time. I guess Keonhee and Seoho decided to bring you inside and warn you given that… well, you know,” Hwanwoong muttered, gesturing to all of them — to the coven. (Hwanwoong still wasn't ready to say those words even though he knew its truth. And that was alright, because the heart knew what it knew, but it couldn't let go of that truth and let it be seen, sometimes.)

“Is there any way to help?” Geonhak asked kindly, voice low and hushed, open and understanding. 

Hwanwoong made a thoughtful sound. “Not really. I’m a heavy sleeper and I guess that translates to the nightmares,” he replied. 

“A sense of security usually does him good,” Keonhee answered instead. Hwanwoong looked at him oddly, still muddled from sleep, eyes hazy and confused. 

“Remember the first night? You said the walls helped you sleep,” Keonhee mentioned. 

It took Hwanwoong a moment to recollect the conversations, before humming, and then whispering, “You also said it might have been because I was tired," but there was hope in the way he said it; a reflex to refuse instead of a desire.

“Then let’s tire you out and give you a sense of security. Win-win,” Seoho said, smiling, voice light, a sincerity easily found there. It was the other’s odd way of showing how he cared, and they understood that. Anything was better than Hwanwoong waking up with tears in his eyes and blood in his mouth. 

“What we’re asking is, if you don’t mind, and we need the extra hands anyway, do you think you guys could sleep here as well? Permanently, regardless of nightmares,” Keonhee asked, blunt, but smiling, and tired, and Youngjo remembered how Keonhee was miles ahead of them. Keonhee was always bright, always light against darkness, feeding off of laughter and placing his own, but he knew pain. His arms had carried souls and the nightmares he was now asking Youngjo to help carry. 

But still it was  _ new. _ Youngjo, Geonhak, and Dongju, they gave them space — and Seoho and Hwanwoong and Keonhee took it. They would give and they would take, in equal parts, in contrasting breaths, but it hadn’t been like this before. It hadn’t been offering them air and then them offering them back what had been given. 

And all the same, Dongju said, “Of course,” and Geonhak nodded, and Youngjo stood close to them and drew close to Hwanwoong, and he laid soft hands on the back of Hwanwoong’s palms, and Keonhee held them together.

“Sorry,” Hwanwoong apologized again, but Youngjo gently quieted him, taking his hand from Keonhee’s and drawing circles onto the skin there.

“It’s alright. We’ve all had nightmares. Not as bad as yours, but we get it.”

Hwanwoong had many things to apologize for. He'd had decades of things to apologize for, to leave to grovel for, but for this one thing — he accepted retribution, accepted forgiveness, and he smiled at Youngjo and thanked him. Keonhee slowly disentangled himself from Hwanwoong's embrace and then gave a gentle, playful push and let Hwanwoong fall into Youngjo's chest. Youngjo laughed, ears pink, and Hwanwoong chuckled as well, but he let himself settle in the warmth. (Hwanwoong would spill his secrets to them. He just hoped they had time.)

"Should we take the far bed or can we switch like we usually do?" Geonhak asked, and Keonhee shrugged.

"May as well crush Hwanwoong hyung under all of us," Dongju suggested lightheartedly. Hwanwoong made a half-indignant sound as Dongju settled on Hwanwoong either way. Youngjo gave a huff of exertion as Keonhee joined the weight as well, and then Seoho was laughing brightly as he piled on, leaving Hwanwoong and Youngjo wheezing under their weights. 

And still, because they were his coven, and he felt more than he ever could when he was with them, Youngjo found the weight more comforting than he had found anything before. 

When Hwanwoong was well and truly tired, red from laughing, they toppled off of him and Geonhak settled himself on the bed, sitting at the side and smiling at them. 

"We should sleep," Youngjo said, breathless and satisfied, weightless despite the recent looming shadows. 

It was still unnerving, and they still worried, because they still didn't know and Hwanwoong still couldn't tell them everything, but it would be alright. As long as they had each other, it would be alright. 

Hwanwoong clambered off of Youngjo and onto the bed, back against the wall and fairy lights lit slightly above him. He was smiling brightly now, a charming contrast from the fear he'd had earlier, and gratitude bloomed in Youngjo's chest for Dongju — for the fledgling's unwavering hope and companionship. When Youngjo looked at Dongju, the younger vampire was already settled against Geonhak on the adjacent bed, playing on his phone. Keonhee followed Hwanwoong into the bed, snuggling close to the other contently, burrowing his nose into the other's pink hair. Hwanwoong made a trilling sound, similar to the purr Youngjo had heard the first week. It made Youngjo smile, the fact that Hwanwoong didn't seem to mind them hearing it anymore. There was less shame there, more honesty; between all of them, among his coven. 

Seoho settled beside Keonhee, facing towards Geonhak, staring at the other for a moment with an instigative smile, and Geonhak squinted at him. 

"What?" Geonhak asked. Seoho shrugged his shoulders.

"I didn't say anything," Seoho hummed. Geonhak chuckled in disbelief and shook his head, laying down on his side as well, crossing his arms and staring back challengingly. 

Youngjo felt amusement run through him at the squabble, but he excused himself to get his phone and tablet. Everything else they needed, they would find in the other room anyway. 

When he came back, Seoho was lightly asleep, and Geonhak was looking at the other fondly, silent in his adoration as the others' slumber sounded in the air as well. Youngjo closed the door and placed the electronics on the nearby shelf, and only then did Geonhak notice him. 

"Oh, hi," Geonhak greeted. 

"You too?" Youngjo said softly, smirking, and Geonhak's brows drew together in confusion. Youngjo laughed at the other's expression before shaking his head and sidling himself beside Dongju. 

"He seems nice," Youngjo commented, and Geonhak replied with a slightly frustrated, "What are you on about?" 

Youngjo hummed, teasing. "Good night, Geonhak."

He ignored the ground out, "Kim Youngjo,  _ what _ do you mean," and rushed his body to fall asleep, ignoring the lines of light that escaped from in between the curtains.

•────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅────•

Youngjo didn't dream much. If he did, they fell like sand between his hands, and he was simply left with the feeling of them, the lingering aftereffects of something like a memory. 

But sometimes, he could remember. And sometimes he dreamt of warm light on his skin, of blood in his heart, running through him and coating him in warmth. Sometimes he dreamt of being human, of time slowing down around him and his feet moving through hot earth. He would watch the sun rise and then fall, and he would rise and fall alongside it; greet neighbors and cross paths, careless and heedless of a thrumming in his veins. 

Recently, he dreamt of kissing Hwanwoong and feeling all those things regardless, remembering them without ever seeing them and just memorizing the way that Hwanwoong’s eyes would shine. He dreamt of yellow, golden irises and bright smiles, and of the warmth that it brought. Wordless encounters, and the brushing of skin. 

Lately, he dreamt of Hwanwoong and let himself fall deeper in love. 

•────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅────•

When he woke up again, it was night already, and Geonhak was moving about the room. Dongju was firmly attached to Youngjo's side, and he'd realized he'd forgotten to get Dongju a plush to hug during the night. 

"Hi," Youngjo mumbled, his voice slurred. Geonhak turned to look at him and nodded. 

"Morning. You're usually awake much earlier than this. Is something up?" Geonhak observed. Youngjo shrugged. 

"Might just be because we woke up in the middle of the day," Youngjo said, feeling well rested and warm and on fire, because his chest was full of flower petals and admiration, a lovesick fool. It wouldn’t surprise him if the others could find thorns in his eyes, shrubs of roses blooming there and unfurling. 

Geonhak, oblivious — to many things, Youngjo noted with amusement — asked, “Should I cook us some food or do you have any plans before that?”

“No plans in particular for today. I think they’d appreciate the meal,” Youngjo replied, stretching in place and laughing when Dongju squeezed tighter around him. 

“How did you get him to let go?” Youngjo muttered affectionately. 

Geonhak shrugged. “I think he switched in the middle of the night.”

Seoho woke up with a hum, opening his eyes blearily at them, then closing them again and turning to the ceiling, breathing in deeply once and then sitting up. “Morning,” he greeted, and Geonhak and Youngjo both answered him kindly. 

Seoho turned to Keonhee, shaking the taller awake, peeling off thin arms from Hwanwoong’s bundled form and his voice gravelly when he bid Keonhee a good morning as well. Keonhee whined for a moment but got off from the bed, rubbing at his eyes, startling at the sight of Geonhak by the door, eyes flashing, before he settled and waved.

“Hi,” he mumbled, raising a hand and laughing when Geonhak clapped his own palm against it. 

“I’ll go wash up in my room. I’ll cook food after, but feel free to eat something for yourselves if you want,” Geonhak said, and he left the room quietly, footsteps echoing until he was far away.

Youngjo felt Dongju’s arms loosen around him and he quickly squirmed out of the hold, replacing himself with the spare pillow, watching as Dongju’s brows knitted together and the fledgling pouted as he wrapped his arms around the cushion. 

Seoho was settled beside Hwanwoong, tapping away at his phone, pivoting around as Hwanwoong tugged blankets towards himself in sleep. Youngjo stretched once more and then opened his phone, swiping away the notifications and clicking on the message Yonghoon sent him. It was a general good morning, accompanied by a picture of Yonghoon next to the shelves of vials and potions he made. 

Youngjo typed back his own greeting and then pocketed the phone in the pocket of his pants. He grabbed his tablet and did the same, freeing it from the notifications that appeared as he clicked the screen on, and then laid it back down. 

He turned back to Hwanwoong and Seoho and smiled at the latter’s bright laughter at whatever he was watching on his phone. Then Youngjo’s eyes drifted to Hwanwoong, and he softened. 

Hwanwoong, with his pink hair framing around his features, falling across his eyes and pooling on the cushions, beautiful as the light from the lamp lit him in warmth, and Youngjo felt affection bloom once more across his skin. He turned to Seoho, who sat up from the bed and drank from the cup of water on the bedside table.

“Did you sleep well?” Youngjo asked, voice hushed. Seoho turned to him while drinking the water and then put it down, nodding at the same time.

“Yeah,” Seoho answered, smiling. “You?”

Youngjo nodded as well. He stared for a moment, and then honestly, “Thank you for reaching out to us.”

Seoho looked back at him, smiling even wider and laughing. “Thank you for keeping us here. We’re a coven, right?” 

Love flowered in Youngjo’s chest, vines clasping around his throat, flowers in his heart, and he choked out, “Yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just :')))) communicating with one another u know... We need more of that ;;; (oh and yearning Youngjo heh) still a bit of mystery 👀👀👀  
> still some relationships emphasis !! little cute interactions for the chars ;;; I hope you liked this!!!! feel free to comment !! scream about it, ask questions, go ahead.


	28. twenty eight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi!!! ^^ hope you guys are doing well. here's another unbeta-ed update hehe 
> 
> warning: there are mentions here of fire and burning !!

Geonhak washed up and walked back to the kitchen with Dongju sitting there, sleepy still but leaning on Keonhee’s shoulder. He began preparing the meal, taking out a bag of meat from the freezer, something they had asked Yonghoon to bring them a while back. Keonhee chewed away at the frozen pastry in his hands, the other playing with a case of taffies. Seoho walked into the kitchen just as Geonhak asked Youngjo to make rice. 

"Hyung, can you make the rice instead?" Geonhak questioned, and Seoho turned to him inquisitively. 

"Huh? Why me?" Seoho asked. 

Geonhak shrugged. "Why not?"

Seoho laughed brightly. "Hey, what are you saying? I'm older than you," he said, tone scolding in the way they all knew was lighthearted and teasing, expression still smiling. 

"Is Hwanwoong hyung not awake yet?" Dongju muttered sleepily, suddenly taking a piece of the pastry from Keonhee and making the other scold him halfheartedly. 

"He's washing up," Seoho answered. He walked over to where Geonhak was and took the cup of rice, smiling innocently when his arm hit Geonhak's and made Geonhak jolt and glare. 

Dongju's voice was sincere through the shroud of slumber when he said, "I hope he isn't too affected by the nightmares now." 

At that, Keonhee looked down at the younger softly, eyes tender and pained, melancholic in the knowledge the other didn't yet have. 

"He always is," Keonhee admitted, and looked away when Dongju turned to him, avoiding his eyes. "But he'll get there."

Hwanwoong came into the room to the conversation of burnt rice, and he stopped by the doorway, eyes squinted at them in bemusement. They spared him little more than a glance as they continued their argument, and Hwanwoong settled into a seat beside Geonhak and crossed his arms into the long sleeves of his hoodie, leaning against Geonhak as the other bickered with Keonhee. 

"How did you  _ burn _ rice?" Geonhak asked incredulously. 

"It was one time and I couldn't tend to a fire and cook at the same time," Keonhee whined. 

"That's true. He can do either but not simultaneously," Seoho said. Keonhee hit Seoho.

"You weren't supposed to agree?" Keonhee said, eyebrows furrowed. Seoho shrugged helpfully, cheeks puffing as he thinned his lips into a smile. 

Hwanwoong shuffled into Geonhak, and the latter wrapped an arm around him slowly. Youngjo smiled slightly at the sight from across the table, smiling against the cup pressed onto his lips, and then pulled out his phone to a chiming sound. Yonghoon had attached a picture of Giwook's familiar and Youngjo laughed. 

"Yonghoon's coven seems fine today," Youngjo commented, and Dongju looked at him, cheeks puffed from the food. "I think they're just making some potions. Wolfsbane, maybe," Youngjo added. 

"That's good to hear," Seoho said, and he held up a piece of the meat to the bleary-eyed Hwanwoong. Hwanwoong took it and mumbled a sound of thanks before pushing himself off of Geonhak and grabbing his own set of utensils. 

Dongju helpfully arranged the mess of pink hair on Hwanwoong's head, and Hwanwoong blinked at him before lighting up and playing with his own hair, obviously still pleased at the color. 

Youngjo had noticed that Hwanwoong was fond of fiddling with it, pink strands threading in between fingers and Hwanwoong humming nonsensically while he combed his hand through the bright wefts. Keonhee had also taken to petting Hwanwoong's head more often, playing with the other's hair too. Hwanwoong didn't mind terribly, often smiling when the other did so and chuckling a puff of air that he tried to keep to himself. 

"Dongmyeong didn't mention anything either so I guess nothing happened over the day," Dongju said after swallowing his mouthful. 

"That's a relief," came Keonhee's voice, and Youngjo turned to see the other finishing his plate of food and getting another serving. 

"I'll ask them if anything  _ has _ happened, if you guys would like?" Youngjo asked, hovering over his phone's keyboard, and he looked around the table. Geonhak seemed impartial and shrugged, similarly to Seoho. Keonhee was humming thoughtfully but didn't comment and Dongju kept his silence as well. Hwanwoong was slightly frozen, and Youngjo could see Seoho and Keonhee's eyes on him, and he felt suddenly regretful though he didn't know what for.

"If you want," Hwanwoong said suddenly, and Keonhee tilted his head slightly to the side. "Tell them I can help them with enchantments, too, if they need any hands." 

Youngjo nodded and sent off the text, then steered the conversation swiftly away.

"Keonhee, you said that one time that you guys hadn't really used induction stoves, right?"

Keonhee hummed agreeably, nodding once, and then sharing a glimpse of the history that they had slowly started sharing with them all. 

Over the weeks; before they became a coven, after, and in the days between, Youngjo had become privy to the snippets of life and death the other three had experienced. It was their comfortable word of mouth, shared suddenly by them and energetic when they did so. Nothing about nightmares, or about the terrors, or about the wounds and the scars. It was flyaway thoughts, things that made them happy and the stories that tread in the more recent air. Still, Youngjo accepted them and kept them close to his chest, keeping it safe there and appreciative of their considerations. They were trying, had been trying for a long time, and Youngjo could see how it made Hwanwoong and Seoho quieten, but they never told Keonhee to stop, and it was easy to understand that that meant they were okay with it — that they  _ wanted _ to be okay with it. 

The very first time, it had just been a vague joke which Keonhee had cheerily explained to them, and they realized how much nuance there was to everything that Hwanwoong and Seoho and Keonhee were. They were products of their pasts, but most importantly products of each other's care and the years they spent together. It was over something so small, almost inconsequential, but it made them laugh, and so they had listened to Keonhee talk about falling off of the tree, startled by the sound of an overhead bird, and Hwanwoong had brightened at the memory. 

More recently, Geonhak or Youngjo would ask about something, a curiosity that was always easily escapable. Sometimes Hwanwoong, Keonhee, and Seoho ignored it, and they didn't answer, and that was alright. More and more often, though, they would spill small secrets and share their shelterless nights. 

Keonhee said that sometimes he missed his sister, and his mother and his father, and that he hoped their house was still standing strong in the human city. He didn't doubt that it did, but he still wished it. He would also tell them of hours spent trekking through woods, moments where Hwanwoong and Seoho laughed. Nothing more, but nothing less, and that was more than enough. Youngjo knew it wasn't easy, and that the words and secrets burned when they passed through your tongue, leaving the taste of self-admonition in their mouth. In turn, Youngjo said he hoped the same for his sister and their house, far away though Youngjo could still remember the paths that led there. 

Seoho told Dongju that his sister used to collect dolls, and that there were shelves of them in their home when he used to live there, and he would smile widely when Dongju hugged the plushies closer to himself possessively. She didn't like animal dolls, Seoho told him, added that she had ball-jointed dolls and fabric dolls, and sock puppets she'd made for him when he was just a fledgling. Dongju didn't ask where she was, because Seoho's eyes told that he didn't know either, except he did. 

Seoho liked the basement because it reminded him of his old home, and Seoho shared that it smelled different, because his home had smelled slightly more of wood than varnish. Then, Dongju told him that Dongmyeong was good at playing the piano, and his twin often made music with Giwook, and Seoho would listen intently. 

Geonhak was noisy, when he wanted to be. He liked asking questions, but he never asked for something he knew Hwanwoong couldn't give. Instead, he listened and waited for Hwanwoong to say what he could. Conversation would happen, and Hwanwoong would suggest with a look that Geonhak involve himself, and then when Geonhak was finished, he would wonder if Hwanwoong would do the same. He did, on the rare occasions, and they made sure to listen, but never silently, lest shame rise in his skin.

Instead, they gave soft hums of acknowledgement when he talked about burning bark, the smoke of slight fires and char calming to him, a reminder of the other side of flames, nights leading him home to candles. He said it lightly, making Dongju's brows draw together in sympathy, and Hwanwoong smiled through it, focusing on the fact that he remembered Keonhee accidentally almost kicking the flames out and instead succeeding in setting the hem of his pants on fire. Hwanwoong himself had slept through the carnage of that, though Seoho and Keonhee both had all but thrown him away from the flames. He told them he used to watch dancing troupes, and Keonhee's eyes twinkled when he talked about Hwanwoong's grace, and then Youngjo understood the agility Hwanwoong had when hunting. 

And so, that was to say, it was easier to ask, now. There was less apprehension from either party — still surrounded by the boundaries they set walls for, but willing to push them down. 

Still, it shocked them, at times, what they would learn. Like the words leaving Keonhee's lips when he said, "We didn't like fire and gas stoves anyway. Seoho hyung used to be really scared of open fire, so we always kept our embers small."

Seoho stopped for a moment as he chewed his food, eyes widening, a reflexive smile appearing on his lips before he gulped and his features softened back into neutrality. "Uh, yeah, right. Yeah," he stammered. 

"I'm a lot better about it now, don't worry. I just didn't like fire except our campfires," Seoho said, chuckling at the end. Again, they waited, let him set his pace, and Hwanwoong's hand came to settle on Seoho's on the table, the younger soothing the skin there as he took a bite of his food. 

And then, a whisper, audible but embarrassed, chuckling, but also so very scared and painful, "Humans burned my home down."

Hwanwoong's hand tightened around Seoho's, and Seoho looked up at him, smiling but eyes drawn. He laughed once, before spluttering out, face red, "Ah, I'm really not used to saying stuff like this."

"I'm sorry," Youngjo murmured, and Seoho quickly dislodged his hand from Hwanwoong's to wave them about in the air. 

"No, no! It's okay," Seoho reassured them, smiling brightly though they could see the memories rising, making his lip quiver. 

Hwanwoong stood up from his seat and walked over beside Seoho, hand settling on his back and rubbing gently and Seoho smiled up at Hwanwoong. Hwanwoong hummed, pensive as he comforted the other. 

Then, "Seoho hyung's house was really pretty."

A path, a paved road that forked into cement and into woods, and one thing led to another, turns unseen and unknown making themselves apparent, and Youngjo wondered how this was what the conversation had become, why Keonhee had veered it so suddenly. The past was not easy, and it was not kind to them, Youngjo knew. He could map out nights in his mind and fill them with red and he might still never know the horrors that they'd seen. The forests were kind to Youngjo, but they were not always that way. Sometimes nightmares appeared in the hollow trunks of trees or in the form of deer. It was hard to put that into words, but they tried, and they had, and it still caught Youngjo unaware at times. 

Maybe they had been tired, or maybe they simply wanted to make do on their promises — for Seoho, Keonhee, and Hwanwoong to bury in the poles and stakes of trust that they promised each other. Maybe they simply wanted to share it. Either way, Youngjo listened and he watched them closely, protective and empathetic. They were his coven, and Youngjo would listen to their pasts and share their nightmares. 

"His mother was really nice," Hwanwoong said, voice receding slightly, and Seoho gave out a huff of laughter. 

"She always made you steak, of course you'd think she was nice," Seoho replied. 

Hwanwoong raised a brow at him, then his lips smirked to one side and he shook his head, wrapping his arms around Seoho's neck and settling his head on the older vampire's shoulder. 

"Would you guys mind if we took a walk? Get some fresh air," Keonhee suggested. He looked slightly morose, but there was a conviction in his eyes. 

"Just give me a minute," Geonhak answered, quickly drinking whatever else he had in his cup and excusing himself from the table. Dongju said much the same, quickly skittering away from the table with an urgency to come back. Youngjo simply stood up, watched the other two go to their rooms, and he walked up to Seoho and offered a hug.

The other looked at him for a moment before chuckling once and wrapping his arms around Youngjo. Youngjo's shoulders eased as Seoho accepted and offered the hug, and then Seoho pulled away and Youngjo smiled kindly at him.

"More secrets," Seoho admitted, and Youngjo nodded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!! hello!!! we're getting a bit more secrets from the ancient trio nhehehehe   
> I hope you look forward to that in the following updates!   
> as always, if you guys liked this, please feel free to leave some feedback! kudos and comments would be much appreciated ^^ thank you all very much for reading and I hope you're doing well !


	29. twenty nine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! again, this is unbeta-ed! if there are errors, feel free to comment them!  
> !!!! For this chapter, please read through the end notes for WARNINGS!!   
> thank you and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

The air was chilly and clear as they walked through the night. 

The path to the clearing was more familiar to them now, treks and trips taken there simply and without preamble, easy requests taking nothing more than a thought. 

Keonhee settled into a sprawl and stared at the moon, sighing thoughtfully. Seoho sat beside him and propped himself up on his arms, staring up as well. The rest of them took the spaces around the pair, Geonhak and Dongju to the left of the two and Hwanwoong and Youngjo to the right, and they all stared up at the bright, silver body in the sky.

They always watched the stars. At first it had been Hwanwoong alone, even before they became a coven, telling them he wanted to watch the twinkling lights. Keonhee and Seoho joined him, and then they invited Dongju, and then Geonhak, and then Youngjo. It was a shared silence, all of them simply looking up, enjoying each other's company, letting themselves settle. Their thoughts would drift, and sometimes they could watch each other get lost in their minds. They would gently pry them back, and then they would talk, share small chats, ask each other how they were. 

Tonight, they watched the moon and saw the starless night. 

"My sister was seen feeding, and they followed her back home," Seoho told them, still looking skyward. "I hadn't been home and Hwanwoong was with me. We came back while the fire was raging, and the humans were still standing outside. We hid back in the forest."

They watched as the smile in Seoho's eyes faded, though it remained on his lips.

"We waited it out. They had waited as well, made sure that none of my family would make it out. I think they used — what was it? Sacred flames.

"It took a while before they finally left, and by the time the fire died down I didn't really… expect to save anyone. Hwanwoong found my mother, but we couldn't do anything about her. She was in so much pain. We, uh, watched her. My sister…. Well, I think she had been staked even before the fire, either way. Dad was smoldering embers by the time we found him."

Seoho's eyes had dropped to the ground. He still had the slightest upturn to his lips, though there was sadness swimming in brown irises, shining hazel. 

"Hwanwoong and I…. We got out of there, as soon as we could. We didn't really grab anything except the ring from my mom, since everything else had all burnt down.

"We said goodbye, and then scattered what ashes we could."

Hwanwoong pivoted from Youngjo and leant his head on Seoho's shoulder. Both of them were quiet — all of them. Keonhee wrapped his arms around Seoho, and Dongju hugged Geonhak for the fledgling's comfort. 

"We used to sleep without fire," Hwanwoong muttered. Seoho laughed, though Hwanwoong leveled him with a glance. 

"We used to get really cold, but I always thought that at least we wouldn't ever feel hot. Never any chance for flames. I was scared that one day I would wake up and Hwanwoong would — would just…." 

Seoho's voice started breaking.

"I just didn't want to lose him, is all."

Hwanwoong moved, placed himself in front of Seoho, laid a hand on the other's shoulder but let the older vampire hide his eyes with dark hair, let the other smile to hide. Hwanwoong sighed, but his features were soft, and there was pain and empathy in them, another unspoken thing. 

"You know nobody can get rid of me that easily, right, hyung?" Hwanwoong tried, smiling slightly. Seoho chuckled, but he didn't answer, and Hwanwoong sighed again. He muttered something, in that still unknown but familiar and calming language, and his tone was chiding but lighthearted, and then Seoho laughed, pushing him away slightly, and Keonhee was chuckling. 

"You're right," Seoho mumbled back, expression thoughtful, and then he crossed his arms over Hwanwoong's shoulders and the other let Seoho settle his arms over him. 

Youngjo smiled at them and Hwanwoong reached out to him, and Youngjo threaded their fingers together as Hwanwoong followed along with the lullaby that Seoho began singing to the moon. Again, affection, admiration, and love. 

Youngjo thought to the images of Seoho, to the smiles that he always offered, that he readily gave. To the older vampire's refusal to let himself be misconstrued, to his curiosity, his refusal to be overcome by the flames that had swallowed his family. He thought back to the ferocity in old eyes, to the flaming scarlet he'd seen that first night, and he understood.

Youngjo admired them, as much as he felt his heart hollow out from their stories. He wondered, how it must have felt like to watch, and he found it unimaginable, nauseous at the very thought of losing so  _ much. _ Yet somehow, Seoho and Hwanwoong had managed it, overcome it, and Youngjo could see it in the way that Seoho and Hwanwoong alone together was silent understanding of one another, wordless acceptance of each other and helping themselves without even realizing it. It was deep and agreed upon, promised to each other. It was trust, and loyalty, and acknowledging the warmth that filled their hearts when they could be in each other's air. Freedom from loneliness and the introduction to family. 

He might have been jealous, but he didn't need to dwell on it, and he didn't want to be, because he could so easily see how they meant the world to each other, though it wasn't roses and romance. It was family, and choices. It was that odd twist of fate.

Hwanwoong felt the gaze on him, and he turned to Youngjo and smiled. Youngjo startled, flushed, and looked away with a giggle. Geonhak and Dongju were inching closer to them, and Keonhee laid his head onto Geonhak's lap when he was close enough. The other barely spared a thought as he propped up the lankier man comfortably. 

They resumed their staring at the sky, the air lighter, clearer, and Hwanwoong felt more hope blossom in his chest, a persisting wish to make his  _ home _ there. Hwanwoong knew he would do anything for them. He already would.

(But he knew that his nightmares could still chase them, even if he pushed them away; or let those perilous shadows drown in his love, in his determination, in the love of those around him. It was a nightmare that was not simply explained away by memories. It was more — more terrifying, more baseless, more hurtful. 

It was the rage of someone who knew nothing. It was anger beating down on his dreams even when it knew nothing of him. It was misconstrued pasts and stories that were not allowed to have a future. It was fools making their narratives and choking him with their fabricated truths.

Hwanwoong was not unfamiliar with betrayal. He was well-acquainted with lies on tongues and of promises that were not kept. He knew of the ease with which lives were twisted.)

He felt something hiss against his neck and his hands seized around Youngjo's instinctively, nails digging into flesh suddenly in his grip. Panic blared in his mind, shadows rising suddenly and smothering thoughts. He startled, body flinching, the sensation of electric flames zipping through him. And because his thoughts had settled so close to it, he wondered if he was aflame. 

His fingers darted for the chain of his amulet, lifting it from sensitive skin and clutching it loosely in his calloused palm. He felt it thrum and burn painfully in scarred skin. He squinted at it, a jolt blooming behind his eyes uncomfortably as he pushed down the desire to snarl and bare his fangs at the sensation before he surrendered and let teeth dig into his lip. Seoho had pulled slightly off and was looking at him, eyes wide and for just the fraction of a second flashing crimson. 

Hwanwoong's eyes flitted from the necklace to the unknown, unseen, nonexistent figures in the clearing, sharp and anxious and dreadful as he scanned for any shadowed, shining visage. 

He couldn't find any. 

He looked back down at the necklace, opening his fingers, staring into the scarlet gem with his brows furrowed and his expression pinched. 

Light. 

There was a light swimming inside of it, sunlight and dawn and shining. It coalesced into spirals, dancing through the layers under the glassy surface. 

And then it disappeared.

Hwanwoong felt his chest shatter. 

"No, no, no," he whispered, pleading, eyes shaking.

"Woong?" Keonhee called, alarm rising and breaking through his voice. 

"Are Dongmyeong and his coven okay?" Hwanwoong asked, breath rushed, clambering out of Seoho's grasp and stumbling upright, manic but still purposeful as his eyes skirted throughout the forest and fell onto his amulet again and again. The rest of them stood up with him, easily feeling the waves of distress that the other flooded the clearing with. 

"Let's go back," Keonhee suggested, stepping closer to Hwanwoong and holding his hands together, preventing Hwanwoong from biting at his nails. Hwanwoong nodded, but it seemed disjointed, like he didn't understand what he was agreeing to, but then he breathed in, lungs hissing, and nodded once more, slower, with more clarity. Dongju stepped towards him and the dry grass gave slight crackling sounds, and Hwanwoong's eyes drifted, controlled, to Dongju.

"Are they in danger?" Dongju asked, worry quickly appearing in his tone.

Hwanwoong eased his shoulders and shook his head. "They shouldn't be," he replied. His voice was more even, practiced into calmness.

"But if Youngjo hyung could ask," Keonhee reiterated, looking imploringly at Youngjo.

Youngjo handed Hwanwoong his phone and lightly shrugged his shoulder. "They didn't mention anything…."

Hwanwoong gave a jerky nod as he stared at the screen.

"Right," he muttered, mostly to himself, and handed the phone back.

"Hwanwoong? What's happening," Youngjo said, voice soft and imploring.

Hwanwoong turned, scanning once more the clearing, freezing at the sound of his own shoes crunching on the gravel and soil. He breathed. 

"Let's go back home," Seoho agreed, and his eyes were observant as well, keen as he looked. Geonhak and Dongju as well were watching now, alarmed and alert, wary. 

Seoho led the way back, hand firmly clamped around Hwanwoong's wrist as he brought them towards the home, past the foliage of the forest and through the starless, moonlit night. 

It had become an observation, that Hwanwoong wasn't the fastest of them when he rested or when they were simply in each other's company. He moved slowly, leisurely around the house and polite as he stepped and weaved. His expressions lagged, and he took everything second by second.

Now, he couldn't stop moving, something in his skin crawling, making him want to run. 

And that was what was  _ familiar _ to him. He knew the gust of air, remembered tearing through leaves and leaving them shuddering on the ground. He'd only ever began to stop, to watch, to see what wonders there were when he'd met his coven. 

He wanted to feel the wind whistle, wanted to feel the eyes on him and to run towards whatever it was that wanted to hurt them. 

But Seoho's grip around his arm was tight, and Dongju was watching him, and Hwanwoong wanted to stay with  _ them. _ More than anything, more than protecting anything, he simply wanted to be with them.

The house came into view at the same moment that another fizzling ember caught against Hwanwoong's chest, and he hissed again, and this time he couldn't dig nails into his palms. Instead, he snarled, and pink hair flew into his eyes and they glowed, stained the air. Keonhee darted in front of him and deft hands held the amulet, not unclasping, but raising it off of Hwanwoong's skin. 

"Again?" Keonhee mumbled in concern, and Hwanwoong grit his teeth, huffed out a whine, and nodded. 

"Ow," Hwanwoong grumbled, as Seoho let go of his arm and they filed into the house.

They locked the door to their room, and then they crowded around Hwanwoong, and Seoho took the amulet from the other, despite Hwanwoong's resulting complaints.

Seoho and Hwanwoong stared at each other, eyes glaring, and again another unspoken conversation. And then Hwanwoong let out a breath, heavy and conceding, and Seoho settled as well onto the bed. 

Dongju inched towards Hwanwoong and then he showed the other his phone, opened to a phone call with Dongmyeong.

"He says they're all okay. Still a little unsettled by the magic there, though. Do you want to talk to him?" Dongju asked, and he was trying to smile. Still obviously unsure what was happening, but worried, and unhappy, and Hwanwoong felt guilt run through him. He took the phone, pressed it against his ear, and offered Dongmyeong a greeting. 

"Hi! Dongju said you were worried something was happening with us?" came Dongmyeon's voice from the other end, slightly muffled by the static of the signal. 

Hwanwoong hummed, and then mumbled, "You seem fine, though, that's good."

Dongmyeong gave an energetic assent. Hwanwoong smiled at the jovial tone, and before he handed it back, he said, "If ever anything more happens, you can call me — any of us."

He heard the movement of Dongmyeong's hair against the speaker, an invisible nod. "Of course," the other answered. Hwanwoong gave Dongju his phone, thanking him, and Dongju pocketed it kindly, smiling at him and then sitting beside him, wrapping Hwanwoong in an embrace. 

"You okay, hyung?" Dongju asked, genuine and concerned. 

Hwanwoong's silence spoke volumes, but still he rectified it with, "Better now."

He looked back up, met gazes with Keonhee and Seoho, and their heads dipped and inclined, and then Hwanwoong added, "Did you know Seoho almost attacked Keonhee when he first saw him?"

Youngjo chuckled slightly, and then finally took his seat on the bed beside Geonhak. 

He would listen. Whatever Hwanwoong, whatever they wanted to say, he would listen. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: there are talks of fires here, and loss of family members due to this and otherwise. please look out for this! if you need a summary or specifics but can't read through the chapter, please ask in the comments !
> 
> and, with that clarified: hi!!! we're finally getting some backstory from the seowoonghee trio!!! heh. but the plot is never too far behind...   
> The ontact concert is drawing nearer! I hope you guys have ways of watching it ^^   
> Thank you for reading! Sorry for the late update today ;;; If you liked it, please leave some comments and kudos! I hope you have a great week 💞


	30. thirty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey ho hi ^^ another unbeta-ed chapter for you guys! Any errors like spelling mistakes or grammar are mine!  
> there are some warnings in the end notes as well for this chapter!  
> I hope you guys enjoy reading this ^^

Once, when the sky was tinged red by smoke and told tales of looming rain, Hwanwoong had held Seoho. 

Ash had rained from the wind, coated their backs in grey and made their lungs seize and sputter, before they forewent breathing entirely. Hwanwoong had held Seoho, in much slighter arms, but Seoho felt safe there as much as Hwanwoong felt safe in Seoho's. There had been a simplicity to it, a fondness that spread through each other in their company. It hadn't mattered that Seoho had been crying, stifling his sobs and nails painful against thin cloth, and Hwanwoong himself had hidden his face in Seoho's shoulders and stared at the ground with pinched eyebrows and his lips caught between teeth.

Seoho had taken shuddering breaths, then broke away, turned and pretended he hadn't sobbed into Hwanwoong's embrace. 

Hwanwoong had waited for him to turn back to him patiently, the way that Seoho waited and watched him as well. 

Even in the time before, he let the moon shine down, watched it with the same disdain that Seoho looked at it with, and then Seoho went back to facing Hwanwoong. 

His expression was more severe when he'd done so, eyes aflame but also dispassionate, abhorrent in the same breath as apathetic. Hwanwoong hadn't expected any less — had expected  _ more. _

Seoho loved his family, and all he had left of them was crumbling walls and thick smoke and grey ash. 

(Hwanwoong knew the way that Seoho would smile with his sister, letting her pamper him despite their ages, and Hwanwoong had become a friend to her along the way. The habits that Seoho had seen for years Hwanwoong had also seen. The way that she laughed when Seoho stumbled but offered her hand to him after the fact. Her smiles and sharp fangs, watching through windows as she watched the trees move and the beasts crawl. Joining Hwanwoong and Seoho in the forest, and then standing her ground when Hwanwoong felt sand cave under him. She'd become a friend to Hwanwoong, and perhaps a sister as well.

And there was Seoho's mother, who always greeted Hwanwoong as if he had never been brought in by their son on a stormy night. Hwanwoong had barely anything in his memories, much less his name. She invited him to the table, even on the first night that he'd come there, and offered him a room and food and whatever else he needed. He'd wrung frail fingers, listened in fear, pushed down the urge inside of him to run and break, and he'd looked at Seoho and watched the other nod with a smile.

Seoho's father had stared Hwanwoong down, a challenge in his eyes, and Hwanwoong hadn't been able to refuse it — until he did, gasping for breath as he pressed himself against the wall, and Seoho's father had smiled and helped him back up and handed him the goblet. And then it was easier, running into the man in the hallways and both of them stepping to the side and bowing their heads, and then laughing and assuring one another of respect. It was not difficult to understand where Seoho's kindness stemmed from.)

When the ash and the embers of wood had become the only memories of that family — Hwanwoong had expected to be left there that night, to have his heart broken again; left there to find loneliness in his lungs. Bleed insanity, maybe. Turn back the years and find himself once more burning char and scratching his thoughts into bark. 

It would have been unfortunate. Because then Hwanwoong would have memories of warmth, and he would convince himself that it had all been a dream of isolation and hunger, and he would run away from any future that had those. 

But Seoho wasn't like that. It had been one of the many reminders of that fact. Something that even though Hwanwoong knew, he'd never actually seen the proof of it until that moment. Seoho made promises that he intended to keep, and Hwanwoong was one. 

Seoho had promised to keep Hwanwoong safe. And so they had stood up, and Seoho had let some of his generosity carve into ferocity, and Hwanwoong kept his own promise to let himself be human. (Let himself have comfort, and find warmth, because even if Seoho was angry and afraid and aloof, he was never that to Hwanwoong when it mattered.)

Hwanwoong had realized, years later, that they had reversed roles. And it was amazing, because they were only able to keep each other afloat since they knew how each other dealt with what they themselves had  _ before.  _ In that odd, convoluted tangle of emotions, he'd realized that unless they hadn't been their company — they would have become each other. 

Seoho hadn't fallen into lonesome and monstrosity because he'd learnt it from Hwanwoong and Hwanwoong had returned the happiness he'd learnt from Seoho when he saw it plant those darkened roots. Hwanwoong eked out the learnt forgiveness. He held Seoho back when the other would charge at unknown figures, at fleeting glances. Still wary, but learning. 

And so, when Keonhee had appeared in the middle of them hunting, gangly limbs haphazard until a deer was caught in between the two forces and the tall figure froze — Hwanwoong had noticed it again. 

In the next moment of seeing the other vampire, as time had blurred and shifted and accommodated them, Seoho darted with his claws towards the stranger. Eyes flashing red, hair fluttering through the wind, fear the precedent to the shaking fists.

Hwanwoong chased after him, and the smallest contact had made Seoho crumple, retract fang and claw, and they tumbled into the soil, rolling on earth as Seoho was assured that it would be alright. Hwanwoong had told him to stand down, in the way he did for Hwanwoong — a simple touch, barely a glance — and he was familiar with the ebb and flow.

Nonetheless, Keonhee, understandably, had screamed. Loudly, startlingly, and both Hwanwoong and Seoho themselves had screamed, and the deer scrambled off as they flinched away from each other and ducked behind trees. 

Hwanwoong still remembered the childishness in their faces, in Seoho's wide eyes and the funny expression. One he had missed. 

(Thinking back on it, it might have been inevitable that they fell so quickly into Keonhee's orbit. They had been running, and then they had been able to laugh. Hwanwoong knew that he and Seoho — they would never have been able to feel the happiness they did now if not for Keonhee. 

In the time between the fire and Keonhee — there had been nightmares, and the first ringing of gunpowder through the air. Hwanwoong was familiar with the terrors he'd dream of during the day, already, more frequent then than they ever were and uncontrollable. He'd found himself waking up to the rustling of leaves in unknown trees. He would clamber down them and land in scarlet leaves, and he would walk away with a bitter taste in his mouth and nothing to attribute it to.

Keonhee had found them on a night littered with images, shadows barely crawling, sluggish and slow. It was the only time when Hwanwoong and Seoho would have watched and stumbled instead of running away. They were grateful for that fate.)

They had slowly inched out of the foliage and flinched again at the sight of one another. 

"Are you alright?" Keonhee had immediately asked. Neither Hwanwoong nor Seoho had an answer. Keonhee hadn't waited for one. 

It was apprehension that colored the soles of their shoes, tattered as they may have been, and so it had bled into every step they took as Keonhee led them to his home. His sister and brother had hidden in their rooms at the first sight of Seoho and Hwanwoong, while Keonhee explained in no shortage of words to his parents. 

They had greeted them with kind smiles and made them a meal. 

•────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅────•

Hwanwoong was not the best storyteller. There were stutters and the rescinding of his tone when he'd said too much, shared something he wanted to bite back into his chest. But his voice was convicted and hushed, a secret that he was sharing to them and that he hoped — knew — they would keep close to their chests as he did theirs.

And so when he grasped at the threads, afraid to say any more, fearing he had said everything they were and he was unraveling, Dongju told his own story. 

The fledgling recounted the pain of loneliness and told them of how Dongmyeong had helped steady him when he couldn't do it himself. A childhood that had only been held up by youth and none of anyone who could teach him. He whispered the terrors of doors slamming, the fear of raucous screaming. Then he spoke of one day when the door opened and Youngjo appeared at his home, and then even tones and words on fire. And then how Geonhak and Youngjo always prevented locks from jamming, how they had taken gentle care when they'd led him home. He bragged, kindly, softly, about how they took care of him and gave him what he had missed. 

"I used to feel lonely a lot. But now… now I really do feel like you guys are the part of me I kept missing."

Dongju was smiling to himself as he said so, and Keonhee was frowning, tears in his eyes as he hugged Dongju and hid his face in Dongju's neck, knees bending. 

"Stop making me emotional, we basically just woke up," Keonhee choked out, voice thick. 

Seoho chuckled at his coven mate's distress and said, "Okay, but you  _ started  _ this conversation, Keon."

"We are sorry to hear about your family, though, Dongju," Hwanwoong offered softly.

Dongju nodded in thanks. "You guys, too. That's…. I'm glad you guys are okay now."

A silence passed quickly between them, slightly awkward, the conversation foreign but appreciated. Youngjo had always been curious — every single one of them, about each other. 

They hadn't expected those tales either way, and their care for each other made their hearts clench at the thought of any of them feeling that pain and desperation. But still they were a coven, a family, and they knew that they wanted to share those stories. 

So Geonhak uttered history, laid out the past to them. He told them that he didn't like small spaces, and he told them why. Still he made himself small in front of them, speaking of roughness and the gravity of being betrayed by those who were supposed to love you regardless of who — what — you were. How it had made him run, crash against wood as he left behind what he could, and he'd unraveled in a clearing much like the one he now loved. Then his father, pulling him towards the woods and teaching him how to be alive without blood. Decades spent in that moment of becoming, and then seeing Youngjo. Letting his father leave, and then spending time with Youngjo and laughing, smiling, seeing the shelter of home and kindness.

Youngjo told a story of youth and the foolishness he'd imposed upon himself. A selflessness that made him forget kindness did not exclude yourself. He'd realized that in much later years, seeking out that comfort when others already had theirs. But he did not berate himself for it. He allowed himself to take time. He wasn't the same as everyone else, and that was alright.

He said how a stranger had appeared in his family's forest and he'd followed the other vampire to a quaint fire. How he met Geonhak, and felt a kindling ember light in his chest, and he lent a hand and took Geonhak where his father could not. How he'd once visited his family in their own home with Geonhak and they'd greeted Geonhak amiably, easily sensing the warmth that had begun weaving across their souls. How a dinner that one night revealed a violence in vampires, and the revelation to Youngjo that there were Purebloods who did not care for their own kin.

He'd stormed to Dongju's house with his family, all of them trailing behind Youngjo and watching the crimson fire of his magic flare in altruistic rage. He didn't care for niceties as he'd sat with them and let venom seep into his gaze, and then he had gone upstairs, knocked on the door of the twin fledglings, and softened his edges. He let them join him, and he'd let Dongmyeong choose not to.

And then he smiled, lips curling to one side slightly as he said, "And now, you guys."

Hwanwoong was staring at him, unashamedly, dark brown eyes shining and catching stars. Youngjo felt himself flush under the force of the other's gaze, but he let himself be humored by that inopportune reaction. He'd shared his century of life through tales and it might have just been slightly funny that even then his heart wanted to wrap Hwanwoong in admiration. 

"You're too nice, hyung," Hwanwoong muttered, and there was mirrored affection in his tone. It made something flutter, a petal landing on Youngjo's tongue and making it sweet.

Still, even when he was struck by lightning and drowning in his soul, he couldn't lie. "Only if you are too."

Hwanwoong looked at him, then down at his hands, and he combed a hand through his pink hair. He stayed silent but Youngjo could see the slightest of smiles. It worried him when he saw self-deprecation in it. 

"Only if I know I can trust you," Youngjo repeated, and Hwanwoong looked at him again and finally conceded, dropping his head and sighing. 

"You're so cheesy," Hwanwoong said, whining slightly. But the smile on his lips was kinder to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: discusses death in passing of non-main characters and has allusions to fire! they also vaguely talk about previous backstories of youngjo, geonhak, and dongju!
> 
> hi!! I hope you liked this chapter! We're finally getting some history of the seowoonghee trio!!! After (checks watch) 65k words. Thank you so much for being patient with me !!   
> Seriously, thank you! And thank you for the support you guys have given me !! Four months, thirty chapters, and almost 70k words ! I appreciate every kudos and comment that has been left on this work so much.   
> Again, as always, please leave some kudos or some comments if you liked this update! I hope you guys are having a good day, and happy almost December! We'll get through this year ^^


	31. thirty one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi again !!!! this chapter is also unbeta-ed, so all errors here are mine! if you find any, feel free to leave them in the comments ^^

Without fear, without any restrictions, they shared stories of the pasts they had all missed from one another. They laughed at each other, with one another, at the tales.

Keonhee had always loved laughing, the way his body stepped in tandem with the happiness that danced in his chest. Seoho’s smile followed him, spread in clouds of joy around him. Geonhak’s lips curled, and he hid it, but it was there, and they saw it anyways. Hwanwoong’s was loud, without sound but instead with twinkling eyes — more of the sight of joy than the announcement of it. Dongju made his elation known by laughing, by clapping his hands together, by filling the room with the echo of brightness. And Youngjo’s was soft, edgeless, enveloping around all of them sweetly. 

The gentle grins revealed themselves when Keonhee spoke of inane nights, of late afternoons. They became boisterous laughter when Seoho spoke, tone flat, teasing, mischievous all in the same breath. It was when Geonhak would combat Seoho’s retorts, and the two would circle around one another with confrontation playing in their irises. When Dongju would stare at the others’ expression, and his would morph into unbridled amusement, lips forming into the heart that beat once loudly in between his lungs. The sharp fangs peeking out from their lines and making themselves known as Hwanwoong chuckled and wheezed gaiety. And Youngjo’s never left, when he laid his eyes on his coven.

Some shared stories of childhood, of early years spent still without the weight of immortality. They had darted out rooms, legs nimble and spry as they twirled around the columns of their homes. They chased siblings, and they chased them in turn, and they quarrelled. It was Youngjo, Seoho, Keonhee, and Dongju with Dongmyeong. 

But also, whispers would crawl slowly in the air, from Hwanwoong and Geonhak, from youths stolen, of the familiar sight of streets and the dirty wood of whatever home they could make for themselves. Then the two would snicker at each other, suddenly teasing and lighthearted, past the pain of it as they stood from their places and chased one another, ripping through air and breaking sound, ‘til they tumbled in a heap and they conceded to their experience. They compared memories, but it was never in anger — rather, it was comfort. They weren’t alone. 

It was an irregardless thing, no matter what family. Pasts were not what made them, and their bloodless veins did not dictate them.

They were familiar with those fables — with the rumors of sneering Purebloods and silent half-bloods. To them, it never mattered. But they were still told, as stories, as history, because it had been that way once. At the very beginning, something they couldn’t still comprehend even though their lives were long. 

It had been Selene and love. 

•────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅────•

They said the goddess of the moon, of the night — they had painted her as glowing with adoration for a shepherd, or an astronomer, or whatever man that Endymion was that let her lay eyes on him as she draped the curtain of stars in the sky. She watched him tend to his sheep, or perhaps she had stared at the glass eyes that he used to stare up at her, and they would smile at one another. And then perhaps, Selene would float to Earth, to hide behind her night, to keep secret the love in the body of immortality. They said that she made poems unspoken about the beauty of the man she loved, admired him as he slept, watched him succumb to her charms blamelessly. His beauty was immeasurable, they thought, with eyes twinkling and his face perhaps made by all of the gods.

The very same gods that let it be known that Selene’s wish of loving him would be made eternal through his unending slumber.

Selene’s heart had broken, then, when she’d realized what she’d asked for. But still, she loved, with everything that she was, deep and watching over him as he slept his eternity towards her. And they all knew that her brother had become jealous of the man. Not in love — but he wanted his sister by his side, and he wanted to shine his light, but her feet on earth made the nights linger and his heat built and grew. Helios was a burning god, one of the sunlight and of the day, of the fires of the flames of the star in the sky. He grew aggravated at the light that his sister would use. His own light, he had bellowed, used for her to find her way to a lowly human.

It was swift, when he cursed the man with hunger, with bloodlust, with an immortality gifted with shadows. A replacement of slumber with agony. The very god of light made tendrils of darkness, did not let even his sister watch and made nothingness out of something to place within the human. It was empty, and it had hurt. Helios had not been kind, and he had shackled the human to pain, shackled him to immortality and watching those he loved fall to the earth, to the weakness to the celestial light. Consume blood, steal the very thing that made them mortal to sustain belligerent immortality. A reprimand for what his sister had done. A reprimand, somehow, for love. Perhaps it had been love, after all, that Helios was jealous of. 

And so Endymion had laid on the earth, skin burning when sunlight found him, and Helios had watched him with fire in the god’s eyes. It had been Selene’s first love that had been cursed with that hunger — the monstrosity that the sun had made. 

Still, Selene loved Endymion, and she watched over him, pulled him to his feet when the night appeared and hid him from her brother. It was still love that made it so that Endymion would find warmth in his bloodless and cold body. It was that same love that formed covens, that allowed for families after their numbers rose into the sky. 

Vampires were cold, and their hearts didn’t beat. Not unless they had one another, because then, love planted its roots and let them feel warmth, allowed them solace from the jealousy Selene knew her brother had no right to strike. 

All of Endymion’s descendants had been made into reflections of him; hungry as well, afraid as well. But ferocious, mostly, because the human mind was not made to comprehend centuries. And so it had spread, from the turning of humans into vampires, the crimson spreading in the time of magic and the proclamations of heresy. 

Sires appeared, those who found unmoving scarlet skin, who tried to take children into their arms and help them stand, in times of death and of disease. Sires were kind. They formed covens — the one thing they knew would let them share love. Ferocity did not remove their warmth. They were those that Selene watched over closely, the ones with more age who shared the galaxies in Selene's eyes, and she shared that knowledge without guilt.

•────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅────•

("I… have I told you Seoho hyung sired me?" Hwanwoong asked, in the middle of their night, voice careful as he said so, and then looked up to the rest of his coven. He knew the answer, and they stared, and the room was still and silent.

It made sense, Youngjo thought quickly. The way they could simply  _ be _ in one another's presence, the way they moved in ways that told something about them as much as it did the other. The gravity that there seemed to be, the fiery eyes at even the slightest breath of danger. Youngjo felt content, then, secure in the knowledge that with those he loved, there was someone who would do what he would when he could not. And perhaps that was selfish, because five lives would sacrifice themselves for one, now, and he looked around the room for the truth of that. But they all knew it, and it mattered little the difference of selfishness and selflessness when what mattered was all of them as the soul they had lost in the ash of the past.

Seoho had watched Hwanwoong since he was a fledgling — had taught Hwanwoong how to understand the world and what it took from them and what they could ask of it. And Hwanwoong had learnt, quietly, and undoubtedly taught Seoho something as well. Youngjo didn't know what sight that was except one that put his heart at ease that they'd had each other.

And it was not to say that Keonhee had been out of place among the two — it was just  _ different. _

And Keonhee didn't mind, because he understood that. He smiled, and laughed, and it was only him who could make it so that Seoho's bright eyes and light thoughts would return in dark nights; only him that could tuck his head under Hwanwoong's, make it so that the other would feel confidence in holding them together. He had his own bond to them, had different experiences and used different words for it all. He shared their care; loved deeper and louder where either two could not understand it because of their mending souls. Keonhee did not need to sire anybody to leave his mark on their heart. He did not need magic. Truthfully, Keonhee was that magic itself.

"No," Geonhak answered, honest and even and Hwanwoong cringed slightly.

"That must have been tough. Was he as preachy as he is now?" Geonhak added.

It had taken a moment. And then they all laughed, loud, and Seoho was pinning Geonhak to the floor with amused complaints cascading down his lips.)

•────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅────•

Helios had made his plethora of rules, a chronology of his misplaced and righteous justice. Some say it was time, that the appearance of spreading magic made him more lenient, let some experience his blessed, acidic light. Some say those on the mortal earth did not have the pieces they needed to tell the truth.

He believed Purebloods the worst from them all. Children that came from human and vampire, where their skin had been touched by sanguinity before Helios could adjudicate them. Thirteen months, the importance of it — the metric the god had chosen to determine what fate he would curse them with. They believed in that number's allure, the way it would call demons. A touch of monstrosity mere moments before the thirteenth month struck, days or seconds, made magic swirl fiercely in the child's chest and made moonlight necessitate red. Made their eyes flare bright crimsons and deep blacks, and let their minds understand what humans could not. They could taste magic and they could watch it smoke around them, and they could tear apart seconds. 

Half-bloods danced a line. They teetered between humanity and monstrosity, with Helios' eye lingering on them. Thirteen did not hover over them like the murders of crows, but still they were cared for by the eternal moon, Selene walking behind them slowly and letting them fill their emptied veins with moonlight. They learnt her ways, and they found comfort in their curse, in the gentler tones of poison in their heart. They found their ways to humans, allowed themselves company; and Helios allowed them it, told himself that this way, it was torture for them and yet also absolution. 

Hybrids were those that Helios would let walk in the sun or crawl under the moon. He did not care for them — the kindest act he'd done. They grew around mortals, and they were not born with the touch of bloodlust. They were given what they took, but never without cost. There was always the chance of knowing them, of knowing that the child wasn't what their mother or father wanted. But they could hail from wherever, and some could live their lives being allowed to be  _ human, _ and that was what others envied them for. 

Regardless, it did not erase the burning, no matter what they were. It did not remove the pain of them making homes, of building trust and family, falling asleep in each other's arms only to wake to screaming and to fire. 

It did not clear the rage burning in them as well, because Selene had never once loved her brother after his sins against her. It did not forgive the loneliness that Helios created, the emptiness he planted in their souls. The very same darkness that would fester and eat them from within, until there was nothing left but what the god himself abhorred. 

It was shorter words, now, just a simple lexis of Rogue. The vampires who went mad with their lonesome, who only wanted immortality because they pushed themselves to mortality every second.

It had once been called many words, all at once. A screaming, guttural sound that might have come close to the feeling of the tearing in their chests with each step they took — the tracks in the earth that turned into nothing but crimson and the need for that color to paint them.

But through all of those — as the stories spread and words changed, Helios' name had lost its place as time moved forward, and with it they finally found Selene. Peace, in night, as she kissed Endymion a silent prayer.

•────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅────•

Most had decided it was unfound, and spoke nothing of it — a simple fable, with truth hidden in black ink.

Of course, those were stories. Nobody truly knew, though books could tell secrets, if only the languages that had been found could be understood. There were strokes and edges to the letters of old tomes, melodic and continuous despite the old age of paper. Those who kept them did not know what it said.

And that night, among Youngjo's coven, with the stories they shared regardless of that history, with their disregard for whatever Helios wanted for them, they did not care for what it said.

They just laughed, and spoke of memories, and shared secrets they wanted to impart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we got ~worldbuilding and lore~ !!! i hope you guys liked this and that it made sense !! the lore here is NOT reflective of actual mythology!!! and i do not claim it to be so ! it is heavily based off of greek and roman mythology, but it is not an accurate depiction of it. if you ever need any clarifications, feel free to ask me !!! we also got a little bit of,,, character history !!!! HEHEHEHEHEH  
> so yeah !!! i,,, did some stuff hehe. i hope you guys enjoyed it and there's a little bit more context for vampires and all the moon references jdajwAJDWDJAJWD  
> i hope you guys are having a great day !!!


	32. thirty two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi hi !!! i hope you like this update ^^ as always, it's unbeta-ed

Another calm lull in conversation appeared. The recounting and the history coming to a halt in the face of the present, where they were just themselves, and then it was filled by Keonhee saying, "Do you think people still update phone books?"

Dongju thought for a moment and shrugged his shoulders. Geonhak replied, "They still print them out, but there are much fewer household telephones."

Keonhee hummed, then started muttering under his breath, enumerating provinces and cities, districts he must have traveled to, the dozens of them all. Some of them, Youngjo hadn’t once thought of. He was reminded again of their lives, of the danger of it all. Then Keonhee asked, "Do you think we can find one for Seongnam? I miss mom's kimchi."

"I'll call in a request tomorrow," Youngjo answered promptly, writing it down and smiling at the chuckle from Keonhee. 

"Thanks, hyung," Keonhee said sincerely. 

Youngjo shook his head. "No problem."

Geonhak chirped with a thoughtful sound, turning to Youngjo. "We should visit your family sometime, hyung. It's been a while since they saw you and — well," Geonhak said, and then gestured to the room as he trailed off. At the new faces, and the new pieces Youngjo had found of himself. Youngjo looked at him, regarding the suggestion. 

"That's a good idea. I could sneak some books back from there, too," Youngjo mentioned, and the others looked at him curiously. 

"What kind of books?" Hwanwoong asked. Seoho was mirroring his expression from across the table. 

Youngjo looked at him, smirked, and then replied cheekily, "Not for younger audiences."

Hwanwoong looked at him, and Youngjo could see the joke find its way through Hwanwoong's thoughts before the other huffed out a single laugh.

"I'm less than a decade younger than you," Hwanwoong said, and his smile still made Youngjo warm. 

"Still younger," Youngjo joked.

"Oldie," Hwanwoong muttered, and Youngjo laughed, pulling the other towards him and smiling when Hwanwoong settled comfortably in his embrace. The other felt like a lit fire in the night of winter. Embers that made Youngjo's skin bloom in red and pink. But that wasn't Hwanwoong — just Youngjo, in love and complete, listening to laughter that he wanted to greet mornings to. 

He wondered if Hwanwoong ever felt the same way. 

He looked down, followed the slope of the whispers in his ears; let himself watch Hwanwoong from above, vision obscured by pink, peach, and purple wefts. Found color in Hwanwoong's cheeks. Saw fluttering starlight on the tips of his lashes. 

He felt the want, to lean down — to whisper his confession then. Shyly, as Youngjo would have hidden his face behind Hwanwoong's hair, and he would have waited for Hwanwoong to say whatever it was that the younger man wanted to in reply. Sometimes, Hwanwoong said it back. Youngjo didn't know what to do then. Neither when he simply woke from the dream, silent as he blinked at his hands at the soft rejection. 

Nonetheless, he kept his lips sealed shut, as he blinked and he was still looking down, seeing all the parts of Hwanwoong that Hwanwoong didn't see, and burrowed further into Hwanwoong's warmth, nose buried at the top of Hwanwoong's head. The other trilled happily. Youngjo smiled at the sound, and Hwanwoong could no doubt feel it, maybe even have heard the breath that Youngjo released at the same time. He felt Hwanwoong smile, too, something calming him and feeling like home as he realized it.

Youngjo clutched tighter at his phone, moving up his head so that he could look at it, keeping his arm up with one still wrapped around Hwanwoong's midsection. Hwanwoong squirmed slightly, and Youngjo heard the slight mumble of, "Hyung, can you - it's a little tight."

Youngjo immediately eased his hold, and Hwanwoong stretched slightly, made Youngjo move away and let the smaller vampire readjust, then Hwanwoong was blindly leading Youngjo back against his skin. Arms bending backwards awkwardly and pushing Youngjo into Hwanwoong's pull. It made Youngjo's face flush in amusement, going red and grinning as Hwanwoong hummed when Youngjo placed his head back on Hwanwoong's. Youngjo heard something similar to a snicker from Keonhee. 

Keonhee, who had keen eyes and a keener mind. Youngjo had already very quickly realized there was a name to put to the stares the other gave him, and the way that Keonhee would always appear at opportune times. 

Recognition. 

It wasn't alarming, because Youngjo didn't really  _ mind. _ He let himself love however he wanted to, at days teasing Hwanwoong relentlessly, and sometimes being so gentle — as he skirted around a scared Hwanwoong, gave smiles to a tired frame, who tried to smile back — that it came to needing to put  _ Youngjo _ back together. 

But still, Keonhee hadn’t asked — at least not yet. Not while Youngjo still was treading the waters, because it had been years since Youngjo was familiar with the feeling in his chest. The other was silent when it mattered. When it mattered both to Youngjo and to Keonhee, because this was Hwanwoong, and Hwanwoong mattered to Keonhee. Not because the taller vampire assumed, either. Rather, Keonhee simply had ideas. Keonhee didn't find the need to ask, because it wasn't his business. But he knew enough about what was going on, the pink clouds that surrounded them, and he kept vigilance over Hwanwoong. 

Youngjo felt thankful for that.

The day continued. There was more knowledge then, more eyes drifting over when the stove burned brightly with heat, but never in judgement or pity — just a question, an  _ is this alright? _ Seoho would meet their gazes with his own, easily, and he would smile and walk over to help with cooking. Keonhee talked to Dongju, laughing and giggling with one another like siblings, with secrets shared and the familiarity of needing family. Hwanwoong clung to Youngjo, and Youngjo clung to Hwanwoong in turn. (Or maybe it was Youngjo clinging, and Hwanwoong not letting go.)

The day went on, and Seoho was still wearing Hwanwoong’s amulet. Hwanwoong stole glances at it, but Seoho would feel the other’s stare, and he would clutch at it with his hand, pushing it into his chest, and Hwanwoong would look away, sorry. Youngjo wondered, and he wondered if they could ask now. 

And so he did.

“Why does Seoho take the necklace from you sometimes?” Youngjo tried, gentle and turning to Hwanwoong softly. Hwanwoong looked at him, stopped biting the edges of his nails and stilled from watching the drama on his phone. Shame and apprehension filled brown irises. Youngjo’s chest constricted, but he understood, and he smiled kindly at Hwanwoong. “Hey, hey, it’s okay! Don’t worry. It was just a question, you don’t need to answer, Woong.”

Hwanwoong looked back up at him, smiled, and breathed a thank you. “It’s just,” Hwanwoong started, and Youngjo’s eyes widened. “He wants to keep me safe.” 

Youngjo’s heart thudded loudly, once, and he felt warmth fill what had just been anxiety and guilt. Hwanwoong answered. It hadn’t been the answer either of them wanted. It wasn’t what Youngjo had  _ asked, _ nor was it what Hwanwoong wanted to admit, but it had been the question that was said; the query about the darker histories. It was heavier, harder to part with, and Youngjo hadn’t tried asking about it, and it was something that was so dear to Hwanwoong that Youngjo once more felt gratitude for the fact that he was allowed to be privy to this. Youngjo had asked, and Hwanwoong had answered, and Youngjo felt something rise in his veins that whispered trust in his mind. It made him smile tenderly at Hwanwoong.

“We all do.”

Hwanwoong looked at him again, with his own gentle grin beaming on his lips, and his canines poked out in this adorable way that Youngjo noticed, and Hwanwoong nodded. Youngjo stared warmly at him, then hugged Hwanwoong close to him again, arm wrapping around the other affectionately before helping Geonhak with cutting the vegetables.

They prepared the table for their meal, and they ate it in their relative silence, Hwanwoong, Keonhee, and Dongju clustered around Youngjo’s tablet which was playing the drama. Seoho, Geonhak, and Youngjo were all eating quietly, asking each other to pass something down the table at times, and then when they were finished they peeked glances at the screen. Hwanwoong took the longest to finish his meals, which was something he still hadn’t lost since the beginning. They waited patiently, and he no longer looked sheepish when they did. They washed their dishes, annoyed each other in the process, and then they went to their room, washing up and changing, and then silent.

“What happened earlier?” Youngjo asked, voice quiet and careful.

Hwanwoong’s hands came up to his neck, and then they froze when he found air, and then Keonhee was handing him a ring. The golden one, that Keonhee often wore himself, and Hwanwoong took it from him slowly and wore it, rolling it around his finger, the band leaving reddening marks on his skin. There were minutes, maybe seconds, of silence, and Seoho stepping closer to Hwanwoong and ruffling pink hair. Geonhak and Dongju were silent but present, attentive and caring.

Hwanwoong chuckled, and then, “They’re still chasing us — me.”

Youngjo quieted his breathing to nonexistence. A flash of crimson, the color dull but in pools, of wounds and the wincing and whimpering of a love in the night under a red moon. A flash of protectiveness at the memory, burning suddenly. 

“The necklace… it sets off when they’re near. When they’re trying to get to me and they’re  _ close. _ Close to us, or close to finding a way to get to me. I’m not sure which one it is, but I know that whatever they do disrupts the magic. The necklace picks up on… on whatever danger it’s been attuned to, and it does what it can to warn me,” Hwanwoong said, and his voice was weak. 

Hwanwoong whispered, “I don’t want them to find you.”

Youngjo remembered the hurt pride, when he’d heard something similar to that — had thought, once, that Hwanwoong was underestimating them. That Hwanwoong had somehow assumed that just because of the roof above their heads they hadn’t seen nightmares. He realized that Hwanwoong never had thought that. Hwanwoong just loved too quickly, and his nightmares that followed him  _ would _ terrify the bravest of souls. He was too kind for words, so his whispers were harder to unearth, harder to understand at first sight. Youngjo didn’t want  _ them _ to find his coven, either, because he didn’t want any of his family to feel the terror that Hwanwoong had, the anxiety running through what had once only been Hwanwoong’s coven.

“Then we’ll do our best that they don’t find us, yeah? We can ask for warding. I’m sure you can help. I’ll look around if there’s any tricks I can use for concealment, okay? Maybe even ask my parents,” Youngjo offered sincerely. Hwanwoong looked at him, eyes slightly pleading, before Youngjo grinned and Hwanwoong laughed. 

“I’d like that. Yeah.”

•────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅────•

They ended up sleeping afterwards, bringing in food and drink from the pantry as they gradually let the night take some of their exhaustion and once more introduce peace into their thoughts.

They fell asleep slowly, one by one, and all of them in the middle of the room's three beds. It had been Dongju first, the youngest of them all dozing on top of Youngjo. And then it was Keonhee, phone falling beside his head before Geonhak put it away. Geonhak himself soon followed, eyes closing and facing towards Seoho. Youngjo's arm was wrapped around Dongju, and he reached out with the unoccupied limb to offer Geonhak two subtle pats. And then Youngjo's breathing evened out as well, and then Hwanwoong, then Seoho, and then they were all lying there quietly. Peaceful, and affectionate, and comfortable. 

Hwanwoong opened his eyes again, after a few minutes, and he sighed. "You're still awake, right?" he asked, voice hushed and near silent.

Seoho sleepily hummed, but his eyes opened quickly. They were warm, and brown, and Hwanwoong calmed at the sight of them. Always, after centuries, they still comforted him. 

_ "D'you think that if I told them everything they would still like me?" _ Hwanwoong questioned. He brought a hand up to his heart then tapped a beat onto the cloth of his hoodie. 

_ "Of course they will. It's not like you're pretending to be nice," _ Seoho stated easily.

_ "I don't know how to tell them," _ Hwanwoong muttered and Seoho chuckled quietly.

_ "And you're asking  _ **_me_ ** _?" _ Seoho bit back with incredulity. Hwanwoong laughed at that, shoulders rocking against Keonhee's chest. He felt the taller squirm slightly in slumber before stilling, arm laying across Hwanwoong's neck.

_ "You think I'm  _ **_asking you?_ ** _ " _ Hwanwoong said. 

It was Seoho's turn to be amused.  _ "We should really be better about that." _

Keonhee's voice cut in the middle of their conversation, voice gravelly and croaking as he bat weakly at Seoho with the arm on top of Hwanwoong. "You guys are talking in Eleian again. Shut up and sleep."

"Sorry," Hwanwoong and Seoho mumbled in sync, and Keonhee grumbled before Hwanwoong sank back into Keonhee's frame and closed his eyes. Seoho watched for a moment, listened to Hwanwoong's breathing even into near nothingness, before he let sleep take him as well.

From across them, the dark, shining, swirling orb of onyx sat on its wooden stage. It seemed to move, forward and back, out of place in its station. Its dark sphere ate the light around it, an eclipse in a fragment of space; it shone with the magic that swirled, spilling lines of gold with small vines of violet and blue. The whirling colors danced in the abyss, tracing whispers around each other. 

Quietly, as Hypnos took over the air and the scent of poppies lingered, the crystal cracked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nhehehehe,, just a little chill chapter! ^^   
> just a little bit of background stuff going on with the ancient trio ! hehehee  
> hope you guys liked it and you're having a good day !!


	33. thirty three.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys!!! unbeta-ed again ^^ no warnings for this in particular, but if anyone needs anything tagged or such, do tell me ! i hope you enjoy this chapter!

Youngjo called Yonghoon the first thing in the afternoon, and then made a call to Seongnam. 

Yonghoon answered quickly, a greeting of a late good morning, and then listened to Youngjo. Youngjo didn’t say much about what had happened yesterday — knew as much as anyone else that Yonghoon and his coven knew anyways, about the shadows that followed Hwanwoong around — just asked if Yonghoon would be alright with setting up charms after Hwanwoong’s anxieties rose. Yonghoon was quick to agree, happy at the suggestion, telling Youngjo he could go there as early as in that day’s hours of twilight. Youngjo asked Hwanwoong if that was convenient, and the other replied a sleepy, noncommittal hum, still in bed and asleep. Youngjo chuckled fondly and asked Seoho instead, who said it would be fine. Yonghoon bid him goodbye after Hyungu also went to greet Youngjo through the phone. 

Seongnam did have a phonebook, and Youngjo buzzed with excitement as he asked them if there were still any Lee families listed in their directories. He’d told them that his friend had relatives they were trying to find, a truth, and they were polite enough to entertain his call. The staff on the other side of the call — a Kim, according to their introduction — hummed as they flipped through the pages. They let out a delighted sound, and Youngjo straightened his posture in his seat. 

“There’s quite a few, here. If my memory serves me right, though, only about three of these still have an active landline connection. Let me see if I can pull up any more specific information about them....”

Youngjo waited, patient, and looking over at Keonhee periodically, who was staring intently at Youngjo. There was rustling, and Youngjo could easily hear the muttered breaths of the Kim, the mutterings of where they placed their details, where papers had been put. He put the phone away slightly when they heard them speaking about families, deliberating, speaking of the lives of strangers that Youngjo would never know — but he’d heard. (It was something that happened, the knowledge of the things you didn’t need nor want, but they were there.) When the sound came closer to the phone, Youngjo pressed it back up against his ear to listen. 

“Well!” the staff said, energetic, “We do have five families with active connections. I can mention the names of those and maybe you can decide whether or not one rings a bell?” Youngjo looked briefly at Keonhee, who nodded from a few paces away. 

“Sure,” Youngjo replied. They went through the names quickly, swift mentions of given names, and then Keonhee was pacing over before Youngjo could react.

“Hi!” Keonhee greeted, and there was a redness in his eyes that appeared. “I’m the friend Youngjo was talking about! Could I,” Keonhee choked on his breath, and he cleared his throat, “Could you repeat — repeat the last name?”

The syllables stumbled, and Youngjo heard them fall, and then Keonhee was down on the floor, tears in his eyes and sniffling into the receiver. Youngjo heard the alarmed exclamation, the, “Sir? Are you okay?”

Youngjo bundled Keonhee into his arms. He watched as Hwanwoong snapped awake and then slowed, eyes piercing and flashing in the sunlight until the younger saw Keonhee and the phone in his hands. Hwanwoong crawled over to Keonhee, hand resting on top of Keonhee’s knees, and then Keonhee was smiling through his sobs, asking for the number. Seoho scribbled the sequence onto whatever he’d found, a stray piece of torn paper from Hwanwoong’s journal. Then Keonhee was thanking the worker, repeating a mantra of gratitude, and Youngjo could hear the sympathy bleeding from them. 

“I hope you’re able to talk to your family soon, sir,” were the final words, and then the line went dead. 

Keonhee was crying, a quiet sobbing, tears streaming and making his eyes shine, and Youngjo hugged him tight, hand in his hair and soothing. “You’re going to be able to talk to them, Keonhee. It’s okay.”

Dongju had rushed over but was keeping quiet, and then when Youngjo looked at him, Dongju looked at Keonhee and Youngjo relinquished his grip. Then Dongju was holding Keonhee, in thinner, shorter arms, but Keonhee seemed so small at that moment. But, more importantly,  _ most _ importantly, he looked happy. Dongju rubbed gently at Keonhee’s back, smiling slightly as he did so and offering hushed words of encouragement and affirmation, whispers of hope and of letting Keonhee realize he deserved to find them again. 

Geonhak was a few paces away, but he was watching over them, eyes soft at the sight, and Seoho was beside him, keen and attentive on his coven mates. 

Hwanwoong and Dongju kept themselves close, Hwanwoong holding up Keonhee's head in his hands and Dongju embracing the thin, racking figure of his friend, a brother. Hwanwoong gently leaned into Keonhee, another seeking of touch as well as letting Keonhee seek comfort. Dongju eased his grip, but he was still warm and enveloping. Wisdom, despite his age, words that knew how to assuage a panting heart, promises that this was happening, that Keonhee could open his eyes.

Keonhee wasn't sad, and so he leaned back into Dongju, laughing, throwing his arms wide and then Youngjo toppled into the hug, followed after by Seoho and Geonhak. 

"Hyeonhee is going to be  _ so _ pissed that I got an extended coven before her," Keonhee chuckled wetly. Hwanwoong and Seoho laughed at the comment, and Hwanwoong slowly inched his way to the front of his friend. Geonhak let go and sat beside the group, watching with his lips curling upwards earnestly. Youngjo arranged himself loosely on the perimeter, still touching, but not crowding; Seoho peeled himself slightly away, but his hand was held tightly in Keonhee’s.

"You're — I can't believe we found them," Hwanwoong admitted, stars in his eyes. Keonhee laughed, fingers playing with Seoho’s

"So you doubted me!” Keonhee said, and Hwanwoong smiled as he shook his head. Hwanwoong put their foreheads together, and the sight seemed so  _ easy, _ so natural, a state of it being right. Anybody could see that they belonged  _ together. _ And, as Geonhak looked on, so did the sight of Dongju behind Keonhee, arms still tight and secure around his coven mate, looking fondly at the pair in front of him. Dongju settled his head on Keonhee’s shoulder, still there, still supporting them in his silence, and Hwanwoong’s eyes drifted over to him warmly. Youngjo’s legs were intertwined with Seoho’s, and the two of them were around the three, watching over them, watching Geonhak as well, and Geonhak kept his eyes on them all, smiling. (He belonged, too.)

Hwanwoong looked away slightly from the fledgling and laughed again in reply to Keonhee. Then he was saying, voice in a pout, “Just because I think you have no memorization skills doesn’t mean that I ever doubt you. I just know you don’t like addresses.”

"You're telling that to me? You can’t even differentiate Seoho hyung and I’s birthdays,” Keonhee rebutted. His eyes were less red now, no more tears spilling, his voice clearer. Now he looked bright, the flush of his skin healthy and pink as they could see happiness rise in him.

“They’re the same month and we didn’t have calendars. I doubt  _ you _ knew what day it was most of the time,” Hwanwoong grumbled, dropping his grip and slumping into the pile, letting Dongju laugh over them and extend his arms further around the pair.

“I’m making breakfast, who wants food?” Geonhak called, voice soft and happy, moving to stand, but suddenly Seoho was on him in a heartbeat, tackling him to the floor in mirth. Geonhak spluttered, flustered as he looked at Seoho, bemused. 

“I’ll help!” Seoho said, grinning widely, and Geonhak’s face flushed a deep red. Youngjo coughed into his snickering. 

“Okay,” Geonhak mumbled, pushing Seoho slightly off of him. Keonhee was giving Hwanwoong a suffering look which Hwanwoong just laughed mirthfully at, affectionately pushing at Keonhee’s shoulder and making Dongju chuckle. 

•────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅────•

When they sat down on the table, Seoho gave Hwanwoong back the necklace, and Hwanwoong handed Keonhee the ring. Hwanwoong took it gently from Seoho, thanking him, thanking Keonhee too, and Youngjo looked away as he bit down on the meat Geonhak had cooked, letting musings float in his mind.

Their amulet confused him, he thought, clutching at the necklace Hwanwoong had given him.

He remembered the sight of Seoho forcing it into Hwanwoong’s hands, of Hwanwoong pushing it away. He remembered the haziness of it, the unclarity that had become clearer over time. He wondered about the give and take of it; timed when Hwanwoong would let them wear it and the times he wouldn’t want them to come near it. It confused him. 

But magic was a confusing thing, he reasoned. If it was to protect Hwanwoong, he didn’t mind, and so he continued eating the meal prepared in front of him then played with Hwanwoong’s hands after they finished eating.

“When do you plan on calling them?” Geonhak asked, and Keonhee shrugged. The action had an obvious undercurrent of anxiety.

“I think I’ll do it a little before midnight. My mom used to take a break after she cooked our second meal,” Keonhee said, finally. Geonhak acquiesced and pat Keonhee on the head. 

"I hope it goes well," Geonhak said sincerely, and Keonhee gave him an appreciative hug.

The dishes were cleaned and the table was arranged, and Youngjo excused himself to go to his room, telling them, "Just making some calls, it's okay." They let him walk away, bidding good luck before walking to the living room and turning on the television. 

Geonhak watched, silent and pensive and comfortable. 

He hoped that they knew how much he loved them. He didn't doubt that they did, because they understood him more than anyone else had ever cared to. But he was always willing to love  _ more, _ and he wanted them to feel that.

He wound his hands softly around Hwanwoong and Dongju, the two of them leaning into the touch comfortably, and Geonhak felt himself smile. Keonhee made a show of pouting, eyes glaring slightly as he tried to include himself in the pile centering around Geonhak. Geonhak pivoted the two in his arms slightly, and they grumbled but adjusted nonetheless, then Seoho chuckled at them all before settling on laying on top of them all. 

Geonhak laid down, bringing the others with him and laughing heartily at the sounds of their varied complaints. Dongju retaliated by biting at his shoulder, fangs nearly tearing through fabric. Geonhak smiled and sighed in fond exasperation. 

The bed was soft under them, pillowy and smooth, and Geonhak still sometimes thought about that — the fact that Hwanwoong, Keonhee, and Seoho had all gone three decades without that simple comfort, nor that possibility. He knew it as well, had dealt with sleeping on green grass in the dry nights, made cushions out of whatever blades and leaves he could weave into shape. But Time had been kinder to Geonhak than them, he lamented. He wished, and he dreamt of sharing the kindness he’d had to them. Anything to make them smile, to remind them that their reminders of care were reciprocated.

Geonhak had been betrayed, by those he wanted to grow up with, those who he’d thought would love and help him stand. Instead, he’d fallen in love with strangers, with those brought to him by the moon and shunned by the sun. And he’d realized dreams with them, realized dreams  _ for _ them, about them, and he resolved loyalty to them all. If it would take his life and his breath, he would give it all for them, he knew. 

Their weights were comforting, pressing down onto him and grounding. He squeezed them closer and they conceded, Dongju snuggling into him and Hwanwoong doing much the same. 

Youngjo entered the room a few minutes later to the same sight, still a pile of bodies of the people he loved, and he laughed at the obvious contentment that there was there. He joined them, placing himself next to Hwanwoong and gently arranging Keonhee, who was busy with his phone. He laid down, looking again at his coven, and he told them, “I love you all,” and grinned wider at the knowing laughter. Geonhak muttered a humored reply, and Dongju’s mirth was bright and loud. Seoho gave him a single pat on the leg, contrasting Keonhee’s playful shove. Youngjo pretended his heart didn’t leap into his throat when Hwanwoong softly echoed his words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!! family !!!! the many types of family :'),,, just a bit of a filler !!!!   
> i hope you guys are having a good week ! feel free to leave some feedback if you'd like!


	34. thirty four.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year everyone!!! I hope you like this update!

There was a sound, to teleportation. Not just the leaves and the wind or whatever else moved around the pillar of magic, but magic itself. It was different for everyone, Hwanwoong had learnt over the years. Those of witches were often accompanied by the sound of crunching, of dry earth, of water moving around them. It made sense, because they were able to tame the elements and make themselves belong there, innate in their blood. Still tethered, still part of the soil, but just slightly not the same as everything around them. Some witches had stronger sounds, to the point that it was almost a crackle, leaves and branches and air cracking eternally around them. Yonghoon, for example, had static dancing around him, spots of it floating around his head and weaving rings in his hands. Giwook’s was much fainter, only the occasional snap of magic, but powerful and potent still. 

For vampires, it was like humming, if you listened. A lullaby, almost, trying to soothe what was in anguish. Purebloods thrummed with it, a lulling, calming tune to those who would listen and when magic was allowed. It put you at ease, made you concede to the warmth that you had missed for decades. Half-bloods were gentler, an undercurrent, a complement to their milder magic and to the kindness that often accompanied it. Hybrids sang only scarcely, but their voices were melodic and beautiful, louder and stronger when it could show itself.

Others had growling, or the tinkling of glass and bells, or the crashing of waves. It was distinct to each creature, but also to each person. 

Yonghoon’s coven somehow sounded like a song. It was stronger, now, easier to listen to as Hwanwoong allowed his senses to heighten. He’d used to dull them, to let himself see sharper and to mute sounds, but now he let himself simply feel. 

Dongmyeong and Yonghoon made harmonies together, with Hyungu the lilting tune underneath it and Giwook a deep undercurrent, all kept aloft by the rumbling from Harin. It was pretty, and pleasing to the ears, and it provided Hwanwoong a pleasant background as he worked on the enchantments and charms. 

Keonhee was on the phone, a few rooms over, and Hwanwoong could hear teary-eyed laughter and admissions of missing his family. Briefly, Hwanwoong felt a bloom of melancholy in himself as well. 

(He’d known them — they had taken care of him, helped ease the burden off of Seoho’s shoulders. They had taken care of Seoho, too, when the other wouldn’t allow them to take care of Hwanwoong at first. Still too afraid of anyone else, too untrusting after all the unkindness they’d become privy to. But Keonhee had torn away those cemented walls, uprooted them and placed foundations of care and empathy once more.)

They let Keonhee talk to his family, doors tightly shut and walls thick between them. Yonghoon and Giwook busied themselves with spreading magic in the air, and Hwanwoong watched and followed with his own. The others stood off slightly to the side, occupying themselves leisurely and offering snacks, and every so often they would ask questions.

“Where did you learn how to do enchantments, hyung? Did Seoho hyung’s family teach you?” Dongju asked, and both Hwanwoong and Seoho looked at him. Hwanwoong shrugged, flicking away a glass bead lightly towards Giwook.

“There was another Pureblood that I knew. They gave me instructions and I’ve done it in small bursts since then,” Hwanwoong answered. 

“Do you think you can teach me?” Dongju asked next, and his eyes were wide and hopeful. Hwanwoong smiled, though slightly apologetic. 

“I’m not that good of a teacher, but I can try. After this, though?” Hwanwoong replied, and his fingers were weaving wisps of webs that Youngjo could see, a shimmering light that took the breath away from his lungs. 

Youngjo hadn’t ever used magic. He knew that he could, but his family hadn’t, not for the longest time, and so it was novel to him. Hwanwoong had such an ease with it, able to form strings of it and keep pace with Yonghoon, motions loose in his wrists but the gestures practiced and graceful. And when he released it, when fingers uncurled, Youngjo would feel warmth wash over him, and Hwanwoong would look contentedly at the clouds of gold joining Yonghoon and Giwook’s magic, a plethora of colors in the air of the rooms. They had been putting up concealment charms and other protective enchantments, and Youngjo had managed to call in a few talismans and physical barriers from his family, which Yonghoon had kindly gotten on the way.

“You’re  _ seriously  _ really good at this,” Yonghoon commented, awe present in his tone. The mirage of purple light dissipated from his fingertips, replaced by Giwook’s blue whorls. Hwanwoong smiled at the praise, practically preening.

“Do you think you could do the storage room alone for the warding or do you want Giwook to come with you while I handle the basement?” Yonghoon posited, and Hwanwoong shrugged. 

“I’m okay with either,” Hwanwoong said, and then Giwook was kindly pulling him towards the storage with a smile. 

Youngjo watched as they walked away and then looked back at Yonghoon, who was dusting off his clothes of the shimmering particles of magic and readying to go outside. Hyungu followed him, and Yonghoon smiled brightly, flaring with purple magic that even Youngjo could easily discern. 

“Do you think Hwanwoong would mind if we asked him to help with the enchantments at our home?” Yonghoon asked, as he opened the latch underground and they followed him. Seoho was practiced down the steps and keen as he listened to Yonghoon.

“Why?” Seoho asked. There was an undercurrent of anxious protectiveness that Geonhak hadn’t noticed there before. It was easier to place, now — Seoho was often more afraid than they thought he was, and it made Geonhak’s heart twinge with the fact that Seoho loved them as much as they loved him. (Maybe more, maybe quieter, maybe stronger.)

Yonghoon hummed, and then his words were meaningful. “The imbalances are becoming more overwhelming.”

The air went icy, Seoho especially tensing. The knowledge of those magical disruptions, what they did and what they were doing — it made them all afraid. 

Something was chasing Hwanwoong, and Hwanwoong wasn’t the only one feeling its aftereffects. 

“We can go,” Seoho answered, cautious but determined. “I’m sure Hwanwoong would like to help, and I’ll try to help however I can.” 

Yonghoon made a thoughtful sound and then started the next pattern of motions, drawing again in the air and making shapes that trailed behind his fingers in the air. Another shimmering purple, and then nothing as he clapped his hands together. That moment, Hwanwoong and Giwook descended down the steps as well, content and pleased. 

“We’re done. We did the bathroom too,” Hwanwoong said, and Giwook nodded. 

“That’s great!” Harin cheered, and Hwanwoong smiled at him. 

“Hey, Hwanwoong hyung, do you think you could help us with enchantments at home tomorrow?” Dongmyeong asked kindly, and Hwanwoong looked curiously at him. Still, Hwanwoong agreed, and the trust there was almost overwhelming. (Wanting to help, as long as it was them, and they hoped he knew they would do the same.)

“Sure. We could probably also buy those plushies that Keonhee wanted,” Hwanwoong mentioned, and the others agreed to it with excitement. “Is there any reason why?” he asked. Dongmyeong’s eyes avoided his and skirted around the room. 

It was Hyungu who answered, voice light and careful but still with gravity, “There are more magical disruptions happening. A few people have come asking us for help as well but Giwook and Yonghoon hyung don’t always have the materials on hand after needing to set up our own house. They’d want to put more permanent charms.”

Hwanwoong quieted, and his coven was on him in barely a moment, offering gentle encouragement and silent comfort. Geonhak’s eyes found Hwanwoong’s, smiling, calming; Dongju wrapped arms around his waist quickly, a dust settling behind in his haste; Seoho looked at him, eyes searching and comforting; and Youngjo said, soft, and holding his hand, “You can say no.”

Hwanwoong looked at him, secured himself in Dongju’s hold, and shrugged slowly. “It’s okay. I want to help.”

“We’ll protect you, don’t worry,” Geonhak said, and he was barely even joking. 

They finished enchanting the rest of the rooms, going up to the attic last and letting Youngjo place the vanishing talisman on the window of the room. There was a pulse of magic, clear and transparent, and then the windows were cloudy and the house felt a shade colder. Youngjo stood up. “That should be it,” he mumbled. 

They invited Yonghoon’s coven for a meal, and they accepted it easily, Dongmyeong quickly going over to bother Dongju. Keonhee finished his call as they were setting the table, and his eyes were red and puffy, nothing to do with vampirism, because he looked so  _ human. _ Smiling, relieved, happy, content, hopeful. Hwanwoong came over to him, teasing him, but his arms wrapped around Keonhee’s and as did Dongju’s. Harin helped Geonhak and Seoho, energetic but not overbearing, and they appreciated the company and extra hands. Hyungu was talking to Youngjo, and Giwook was soon chatting with Keonhee. 

Hwanwoong looked at them and fiddled with his necklace. 

They finished the meal, Yonghoon's coven leading the conversation when there was any. For the most part, it was silent again, Youngjo’s coven always single-minded when faced with their meals, and it was something Dongmyeong mentioned that made Hwanwoong chuckle. They weren’t very good at paying attention when there was food, he said, and the others were quick to agree. So, again the songs weaved in the air and Hwanwoong let himself listen to it.

They bid each other goodbye and arranged plans for the next day once they had washed the dishes — with the help from Giwook and Yonghoon magicking the plates clean. Dongju's stature was obviously excited at the notion of teleportation, much like Geonhak and Keonhee though the latter two tried to hide it. Hwanwoong told them to take care, and to eat well and drink plenty of water. “You wouldn’t want to exhaust your magic,” went unsaid, but it was loud either way. 

Again, another loud chord of the sound of Yonghoon’s coven, electricity and songs in the air, and then they were gone and Hwanwoong was looking at a pile of disturbed leaves and fizzling wood.

He could listen to his own coven, now, as his ears still buzzed with sound, and he listened to the timbres surrounding him. Keonhee’s, bright but soft, carrying, and Seoho’s strong, emotive tune. Humming, soft and unpracticed but insistent from Dongju, intermittent from Geonhak, and Youngjo’s soothing but unexpected in its tenderness. Hwanwoong always thought his was slightly airy, a little off from theirs, but somehow he’d learnt not to mind it too much over time. It sounded nice, after all, with the rest of them.

They headed back inside, calm. The tune was easy and comforting to Hwanwoong, and he wondered if the others were listening as well. He knew that Seoho could — the older had once told him that Hwanwoong’s had sounded different, and changeable, always a different tune. Hwanwoong hadn’t thought the same, but Seoho had been firm in his belief, and Hwanwoong had let him be.

“Do you want to go anywhere tomorrow aside from getting the plushes and Yonghoon’s?” Geonhak asked, voice breaking through the crest of a melody. 

“This’ll be the first time you guys see Yonghoon hyung’s house!” Dongju said cheerfully. The others nodded along to his enthusiasm. 

“Can we get some sweets? Not junk food or anything — like going to a cafe,” Keonhee suggested. 

“Teleported cakes taste different,” Seoho said, and Geonhak, Dongju, and Youngjo noticed only at that moment that he was  _ right. _ It was another odd example of exactly how much they could notice that they simply hadn’t because they hadn’t ever really thought about it. 

“Do you think Yonghoon hyung could give me some crystals?” Hwanwoong asked as his eyes glided over to the onyx sphere. He stepped closer to it and put it up to the light, then put it back down with a pensive look.

Dongju nodded. “They have a lot. I’m sure Yonghoon hyung would have a few laying around.”

Geonhak corralled them onto one of the beds again, letting them wrap around one another again, domestic, and fond, and Geonhak found himself smiling at them. “Then we should sleep,” he told them. 

The others grumbled, but there was no actual heat behind it — Hwanwoong especially looked tired, and his eyes were already closing as he pressed close to Youngjo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey hey hey !!! Sorry for such a late update, my writing has slowed down because of a bunch of things ;;; I don't really have an excuse but,, , nonetheless, I hope you guys liked this chapter!!! It's just a little bit of downtime ;w;
> 
> On a different note,,,, 
> 
> I seriously want to thank all of you for the support you've shown this fic since August of this year. It really does mean a lot to me!!! I'm not super good with talking about it, but this fic definitely is an opportunity for growth that I'm glad I took. I'm hoping to get back into the groove of it! As this year comes to a close, I hope 2021 is much kinder to us all. Have a good year you guys!! Take care of yourselves!


	35. thirty five.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!! happy 2nd anniversary with oneus !!! as always, this chapter is unbeta-ed! i hope you guys like it!

Youngjo woke up in the late hours of morning to Hwanwoong crying slightly from nightmares in his arms. The world was slightly fuzzy around the corners, still addled with slumber and the dreams of rustling leaves and warm fingertips. Hwanwoong felt cold, but solid under his arms, shaking slightly but barely a sound leaving him. Youngjo pulled the slighter form towards himself and gently coaxed the other awake, words soft and measured. Dongju stirred from beside him, but the younger vampire didn’t wake up. Youngjo looked back to Hwanwoong, rousing the other until Hwanwoong’s eyes opened, bleary and shining.

“Huh?” Hwanwoong muttered out, voice muffled and rough, unaware of the distress rumbling in his throat and the salt gathering in between eyelashes. 

“You’re crying,” Youngjo said, eyes imploring and patient. Hwanwoong pulled away slightly, hand coming up to check, then stilling when they came away with tears. 

He chuckled slightly, then wiped away at his eyes. “Ah, that’s unfortunate.”

Geonhak was awake now, reaching over Seoho and Keonhee to check on Hwanwoong. Hwanwoong swatted at his hand good-naturedly and Geonhak ruffled his hair with affection before turning back to sleep. Youngjo stared down at Hwanwoong, quirking a brow as the other peeked up at him with a slight smirk. 

"Yes?" Youngjo hummed, chest rumbling fondly. Hwanwoong laughed and shook his head, then a bout of purring started, swiftly putting Youngjo at ease. 

"Thank you," Hwanwoong said, and Youngjo chanced placing a kiss on the crown of Hwanwoong's head, his heart beating out of his chest as he did so. Hwanwoong's easy reply of joy made Youngjo's veins fill with adoration and fondness.

"Go back to sleep, Woongie," Youngjo told him, and Hwanwoong was already halfway there. 

When Hwanwoong was asleep — breathing silent but purring low in the back of his throat, content — Youngjo pressed another kiss to pink hair and chased Hwanwoong into dreams. 

•────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅────•

Gold rays of the final hours of sunlight fought against heavy curtains. Seoho woke to Geonhak sifting through a pile of clothes. Clothes that weren't Seoho's, but were beside his hangers nonetheless, and fit on Geonhak. Some were weeks old, recurring pieces of clothing that Geonhak often wore. Some seemed to be new, articles he had seen strewn about in Geonhak's own room days before.

There was a plate of freshly cut fruit by the dresser, pieces missing from apples and kiwis as Dongju happily snacked away at them. Keonhee was eating a pack of jellies, and then Seoho turned to Hwanwoong and Youngjo. He bit down on the smile that appeared on his lips. 

The two were facing one another, Hwanwoong tucked slightly into Youngjo, slotted under the other's neck. An arm was wrapped gently around Hwanwoong's head, hand slightly threaded through fading pink hair. Hwanwoong's fingers were curling, grasping loosely at Youngjo's in between them, and — it was obvious, for Seoho. For Keonhee, too, no doubt. They knew what falling in love with Hwanwoong was like, but perhaps not quite in the way that Youngjo was falling for their coven mate. 

Still, it was not their place, or anybody's, to say what  _ should _ be done. There was no right answer to it; the vast expanse of choices a fearful path to track and tread. They understood, wholeheartedly. Seoho had made millions of decisions, and he couldn't tell for sure which had let him meet Hwanwoong, but he knew it was one of the moments that had built his soul. And to believe that that decision might have been so thoughtless, that Seoho cannot even remember it — if he had the privilege to make those terms, and to sketch out the lines of it, he would. And so seeing Youngjo do exactly that — it made Seoho’s heart burst with affection. 

Seoho stretched out in bed and went to wash up, already teasing Geonhak and making the other growl at him, before Seoho dashed away into the bathroom. 

“He does that to piss you off, hyung,” Dongju told Geonhak helpfully outside. 

“I know,” Geonhak bit back, though there wasn’t any real heat behind the words. There was a whispered something that Seoho couldn’t catch, and then Dongju was laughing loudly enough to startle Seoho. Geonhak huffed and pushed Dongju, but there was joy in the sound, and so Seoho turned and prepared for the day. 

•────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅────•

Keonhee made sure to grab a bag of chips and stuff it into his bag before they left the house. Just as a precaution, he grabbed another of the packs of chocolates that Dongju had grabbed as well. He knew Hwanwoong liked stealing from the fledgling, and while it was amusing, Dongju’s frustration might pose problems when they went into the city. Geonhak was already waiting for them all by the door, handing them a sandwich, and then he opened the door and they walked out. 

It was almost time for snow, Keonhee noted. The air was cold, and the clouds were thick and pervasive through the night sky, blocking out the setting sun and making the earth fill with mist. It was pleasant on their skin, having been numbed by years of frigid blood and the unkindness of the earth. Mostly, though, the clouds let them see light without feeling fear spiking in their chests. The leaves were falling, nearing the end of autumn, leaving trees bare and the blades of grass dry. From behind him, Keonhee could see the way that Hwanwoong kicked lightly at the soil, pebbles rolling under his feet and gravel crunching on the moist ground. 

When they arrived at the entrance of the city — buildings once more towering, making them feel small, shielding them from the prying eyes but exposing them to the gazes of those that they  _ could _ see — Youngjo led them through the darker streets, and unfamiliarity once more filled their senses. Youngjo told them that Yonghoon’s home was near the borders of the city, touching only the edges of the bustling life but more content in the grass and the skirting forest. It put Keonhee more at ease, cement and smoke to one side while seeing wood and the smell of life on the other, the two meeting and making something similar to the sensation of his own home. Geonhak and Dongju didn’t seem to particularly mind, but Keonhee saw the tension leave Hwanwoong’s shoulders and Seoho’s eyes were alight with more honest curiosity. 

It was easy to notice when they found the house. Magic or no, there was warmth to it, lights loud but still tender around hard wood and the smell of old ash. The colors were calm and welcoming, and encased in the slight sheen of transparent purples and blues. Keonhee noticed Hwanwoong light up at the sight of it, hand reaching up for his necklace and twiddling with it, a smile on his face. Interest, and curiosity, and the familiarity with things that Keonhee had never had the patience to understand. It must have been reeking with the magic that Keonhee couldn't quite attune to see, but came naturally to Hwanwoong. 

When Youngjo walked onto the porch, a flare of temperate wind hit the back of their clothes, contrasting to the cold bite of winter as they were bathed in comforting whispers of air. Keonhee jumped slightly at the feeling but focused on the doorbell. It was a single chiming, bright and tinny. 

The lock came undone, clicking, and then they were greeted by the smiling face of Yonghoon. He had dust on his skin and colorful powders; embers of magic. There was a stray piece of rosemary in his hair that Youngjo took out and handed the witch. Yonghoon looked delighted at the discovery and pocketed it. 

"Hi," Yonghoon chirped cheerfully. "I know that the walk must have been tiring, but Giwook and I had to stay back for some of the enchantments people have been asking from us. Harin made you some food to keep your energy up!"

Dongju's eyes lit up at the mention of the food, and he was confident when he walked through the house after giving Yonghoon a hug. From faraway, they heard Dongmyeong greet his twin and Harin inviting them to eat. 

"You guys should have a snack first. I'll just finish the potion I'm making and then we can start the enchantments," Yonghoon said. The rest nodded and followed Youngjo to the sound of silverware and crackling heat, Geonhak staying behind slightly and quietly admitting to Seoho that he still got lost in the house. Seoho laughed at him, and Geonhak glared, but both of them were smiling. 

Hwanwoong sat down beside Dongju, Dongmyeong greeting him joyfully and Harin handing him a plate of tender meat. Hwanwoong looked up at Harin curiously and asked, “I never really asked, but do you eat it on the raw side, too?”

Harin chuckled and nodded. “Almost every other day, when the moon’s close. But I usually do maybe just once a week, really?” he answered. Hwanwoong hummed and took the proffered plate and started eating languidly.

Dongmyeong started conversation, and Yonghoon joined them halfway through, still finishing faster than Hwanwoong, who took to carrying his bowl of soup around the house carefully while they showed him their rooms. 

Dongmyeong happily jumped onto his own bed, followed by Dongju and Keonhee. Dongju immediately grabbed the almost identical plushie of the bear Dongju kept in his own room from Dongmyeong’s bed. 

“Where’s your keyboard?” Dongju asked, playing with the plush cutely, making Hwanwoong crawl over to him and squish his cheeks together. Dongju pouted, brows drawing together but accepting of the affection. Hwanwoong laughed and cooed at him, and the other laughed at the sight. 

Dongmyeong did the same, hands coming down to the sides of Dongju’s face, but Dongju pushed him off playfully, burrowing further into the cushion. Yonghoon and Youngjo laughed fondly, looking at one another with a knowing glance mixed with exasperation. 

“It’s in the other room. Giwook and I recorded something yesterday, we haven’t put it back,” Dongmyeong answered. He'd told them that their coven had dabbled on music, sending soft melodies to whoever would listen. Sometimes, someone would commission them a piece. It was nice, they said, and helped pay some bills. 

“Have you done the enchantments there?” Hwanwoong asked, hands busy with leisurely squeezing at Dongju’s cheeks once more, the fledgling not particularly caring and instead focusing on the plushie in his hands. 

“Not yet,” Giwook answered.

“We can do them now, if you would like,” Yonghoon said. Hwanwoong shrugged noncommittally, getting up off the bed. He stretched, hands reaching for the sky, feline and delicate but confident and aware. He was handsome, Youngjo thought fleetingly.

The process was familiar, after even just a few hours of it beforehand. For Hwanwoong, magic was learnt, and magic itself learnt. For the others, watching the spells pervade the air was amusing and pretty, calming to the senses apart from the charms themselves. 

Hwanwoong was less sure of himself in the home, and Giwook and Yonghoon more so given the familiar corridors. Still, the magic flowed easily from Hwanwoong's fingers, golden rivulets and wisps falling from his skin and floating to the air. It went on for a few minutes again, just like that, stretching into hours as they took breaks. Once, Yonghoon had tripped slightly over Hwanwoong's feet, and Hwanwoong gave a performative, "Oomph," of exertion as he righted the taller man. Just as Hwanwoong was about to ask if he was okay, Yonghoon met Hwanwoong's eyes and Hwanwoong stilled. 

"You should rest," Hwanwoong muttered, slightly scolding, and he tapped Yonghoon's shoulder with magic that made the other physically brighten. Giwook made a curious but at the same time knowing sound.

"Right. If you need any help though," Yonghoon offered, and his voice was decidedly more tired than they had heard it the entire evening. Yonghoon's coven quickly crowded around him. 

Hwanwoong nodded. "Of course. I think I'll try teaching Seoho and Dongju something. You should get some sleep," Hwanwoong said.

Yonghoon thanked him, and was led by Hyungu to his room. Hwanwoong whispered something to Giwook, then offered a comforting smile to the young witch. Giwook smiled back and went to join Hyungu. Harin and Dongmyeong offered their help, saying the house was theirs to explore and they could rest after they did the enchantments.. Giwook told Hwanwoong to call for him whenever he felt too tired. Hwanwoong accepted, though it was obvious he wouldn't ask for the help they were giving. 

When the other coven retreated into Yonghoon’s room, Hwanwoong then turned to his own coven. He clapped his hands together lightly, and then smiled at them. Youngjo raised his brows curiously, much like Geonhak and Dongju. Keonhee startled slightly from the sound and Seoho tilted his head.

“Magic lessons!” Hwanwoong announced, tone bright, and Dongju whooped happily. Excitement ran through the fledgling. 

“I thought you were kidding!” Dongju exclaimed. Hwanwoong feigned offence. 

“Why would I lie to you?” Hwanwoong pouted, and Dongju just stuck his tongue out at him. 

Seoho was equally as excited, eyes lit and flashing crimson in his mirth. “How do we start?” he asked, voice laced with childish enthusiasm that made Youngjo chuckle. 

Hwanwoong looked at Seoho and smiled again, softer around the edges. “Okay. Well, put your hands out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!! magic , magic , magic !!!! hehehe  
> i hope you guys have been having a good time !!! please feel free to leave some feedback, though i might be slow with responses QAQ


	36. thirty six.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiya!!! This might become a weekly update fic ^^;;; I hope you guys enjoy! Still unbetaed :')

Hwanwoong was a good teacher, despite what he said. He was a good speaker, despite what he told them otherwise. Dongju listened raptly as Hwanwoong used words to make motions understood, used actions to make concepts make sense. Seoho was a good student, curiosity burning in his soul and the passion for learning alight. Dongju was nothing if not persistent, comprehension blossoming behind his eyes and making his brows furrow. From the sides, Dongju could see Youngjo making attempts at the gestures as well. 

Magic was difficult, but it was comforting. Just the feeling of it — more aware, more awake, closer and more tangible than they had ever thought it to be. It was still hard to truly feel it the way that Hwanwoong did, enveloping Hwanwoong entirely and making him bright. For Dongju, for everyone around him, his coven, it was wispy and smoking, tendrils of something they hadn’t ever thought of past the simple fact of its presence. They felt it and they knew it was a part of them, but they’d never had to think of it as theirs in a way they would manipulate. But trying it was release.

“You can hear it, right?” Hwanwoong had asked, as he’d led Seoho’s hands to the older vampire’s ears. Covering them, making the world hum — making his  _ magic _ hum. Seoho had nodded. It was easy, if you were listening for it. Hwanwoong’s next words were barely muffled against the resistance of Seoho’s hands, hearing keen. “Do you think you can make it sing?” Hwanwoong muttered. At Seoho’s confused gaze, Hwanwoong had chuckled, slightly sheepish. 

“Wrap your hands around tighter?” Hwanwoong said, and helped press Seoho’s hands against his temple. There was the faintest of discomforts appearing around his skin at the pressure, sounds muffling further, but the humming grew in volume, until it was looping incessantly against Seoho’s eardrums. He drew his brows together, incredulous, until suddenly he could hear notes. 

Singing. 

Hwanwoong had squeaked with laughter when Seoho gasped. “Yeah. It doesn’t like it when you’re thinking  _ too _ much,” Hwanwoong said fondly, as if talking about a friend. The mere sound of his coven mate’s voice made the singing fall away into the world, and Seoho whined petulantly at the loss of it. Hwanwoong laughed again.

“If you can, sometimes people can just… make their ears ring. Like unfocusing on the world,” Hwanwoong said. “Magic is part of you, yes, but it’s more than just what you feel. Take yourself away from what you see, what you hear. Just  _ be, _ for a second — magic likes being free. It’ll find a way to come back with you.”

“I’m good at not paying attention!” Dongju said happily. Hwanwoong looked at him with an amused smile.

“Yeah, you really are,” Hwanwoong said. He helped Dongju press his hands to his ears, and they could see the exertion, the effort, the concentration that the fledgling was exerting. 

Hwanwoong did, too, and was quick to comment on it, correcting. “Too much thinking. You’re probably paying too much attention to not paying attention, you idiot,” Hwanwoong chided. Dongju pouted. 

“Cross your eyes,” Hwanwoong suggested. Dongju hummed in confusion but followed his direction. 

It was almost a minute before Youngjo saw shy pink clouds rise from Dongju’s body, shimmering and a fluctuating presence. At that same moment, Dongju jolted. There was glee in his eyes.

“Magic!” Dongju had screamed and Hwanwoong had laughed heartily at the other’s joy, but Youngjo had seen the gold — coaxing, and gentle, grasping at what Dongju hadn’t been able to. Dongju tried again, and it was less time, less coaching and more just letting Dongju do it himself with Hwanwoong watching patiently. 

Then, it was an hour of Hwanwoong enchanting the rooms with protective charms and an hour of Seoho, Dongju — and, discreetly, Youngo, the dark haired vampire turning to Geonhak and ignoring the snickering from the body blocking him from view of the coven — simply trying to get used to their magic, the feeling of it around and inside of them. Magic was reactive, on instinct, flaring and burning when it needed, when the body it thrived in felt danger or joy or whatever else it was that could be felt. It was such a large part of why controlling it was so hard. Like Hwanwoong had said, it was happiest when it was free. 

Once, a bright burst of magic tore into the air from Youngjo, the tint red and forming a sudden gust. Hwanwoong had jumped, golden threads falling in between his fingers and forming clouds of sparkling air. Youngjo looked sheepish, despite the obvious magic he’d summoned.

“Got frustrated?” Hwanwoong asked knowingly. Youngjo pouted. Hwanwoong laughed and pat him on the back. “That’s okay. At least it wasn’t some kind of energy pulse,” Hwanwoong said. Youngjo still pouted. 

Hwanwoong paused his ministrations and went over to Youngjo. 

“Try putting your hands like this,” Hwanwoong said, and he gently took Youngjo’s hands and clasped them loosely together. Youngjo felt heat rise at the back of his neck and rush into his cheeks. Then, Youngjo felt warmth spread from Hwanwoong’s fingertips and into his, the feeling calming, and when he looked up at Hwanwoong the other was staring back at him with a smile. 

“Warm, right?” he said. Youngjo found his jaw locked, voice unable to escape from his throat as he looked at Hwanwoong, felt Hwanwoong’s hands on his. He could sense his magic trying to escape, rising to the surface easily after the minutes of attempts, reacting to the love weighing down on the sides of his heart.

“Yeah,” he said, after a while, voice coming out breathy and silent. 

“Keep doing what you’re doing, you’re doing great. When your hands start feeling warm just...” Hwanwoong paused, releasing their hands from one another, and gold lines locked around roughened, delicate fingers, “... let go.”

Youngjo looked at Hwanwoong’s hands and at his own, and he smiled kindly at Hwanwoong in thanks. He ignored the way he could hear his heart, slow, but beating loudly, in his ears. 

In the end, Hwanwoong had finished casting the protective charms by himself. Youngjo was happily looking at the small orb of red he could form between his hands, the world buzzing around him as he looked at it. Seoho had managed to form wisps, string-like and floating, akin to amber in quality. Dongju was content in the mist of fuschia swirling around his body. Geonhak and Keonhee were busy on their phones, but their eyes drifted to their coven mates and offered them water, took out snacks from the bags — ignoring the open pantry with shy but mutual apprehension.

Hwanwoong’s hands were trembling, slightly, when he was finished, hands dropping from in front of his face and leaving the symbols in the air. It was Keonhee who noticed first. 

“Woong, you’re taking a nap right now,” Keonhee said. The others turned to look at the pair, and then they were fussing over Hwanwoong. There wasn’t much, to prove his exhaustion, but they knew. Hwanwoong slept hours away, slept in cushions until he was forced to rouse — they knew that. But they’d learnt that he couldn’t fall asleep when he needed to, because he didn’t allow himself to.

“Or I can take off my necklace,” Hwanwoong suggested, voice slightly airy, the joke falling flat and sounding sincere. It confused them, but Hwanwoong seemed to be entertained by the notion.

“I’m sure we can use the guest room,” Dongju said. He was already dragging Hwanwoong through the hallways, and Hwanwoong didn’t bother with protesting, steps stumbling clumsily in a way that was slightly uncharacteristic of him as he entered the room. They huddled around him on the scentless but comfortable bed, and Hwanwoong fell asleep quickly as Dongju tucked him into the soft, pale duvet.

Geonhak sighed in exasperation when Hwanwoong’s breathing began evening out. “He really didn’t take a break, did he,” he grumbled. 

Dongju frowned, guilty, hand scratching at his skin. “I didn’t notice hyung was getting too tired,” he admitted. Seoho was quickly to comfort him. 

“None of us did, I think. Magic — well, you know,” Seoho said. Dongju thought back to the haziness of the world he was trying to get used to.

“Well, thankfully that mall is open all night. At least we’ll get to destress later,” Keonhee offered helpfully. “He might find a plush he likes,” he added, soothing Hwanwoong through gentle combing of hands through hair. 

“I’ll ask if Myeong has some blood,” Dongju said, standing and excusing himself. 

He came back with Dongmyeong and Hyungu in tow, Dongmyeong holding a cup of crimson liquid and Hyungu watching quietly with worry in his eyes.

“Why didn’t he call us?” Dongmyeong asked, though he knew the answer to the question. 

“Stubborn,” Keonhee said, and made Dongmyeong laugh appreciatively. 

“He’s an idiot,” was what Dongju added as he sat down beside Hwanwoong. Dongmyeong nor anyone else didn’t refute that statement, either. 

Dongju gently coaxed Hwanwoong awake, easy enough when he wasn’t yet fully in deep slumber. Hwanwoong’s eyes were more tired, now, unable to keep up appearances when he was so exhausted. Youngjo felt his heart lurch at the sight, but then calm once more when Hwanwoong gently took the drink Dongju was offering him and some semblance of color returned to his skin. He was out like a light when he’d finished the cup and Seoho laughed lightly at sound of Hwanwoong’s head hitting the pillows.

“How’s Yonghoon hyung?” Keonhee asked while he put away the cup — honorifics for the witch tacked on for appearances than anything else. (Keonhee was older, if only by a few years, but Yonghoon liked taking care of everyone, and the term seemed to simply be true.) 

Hyungu smiled softly. “He’s okay. Just tired, too. He was sort of like Hwanwoong, I think. Wasn’t resting but we didn’t notice,” Hyungu answered. “But he’s sleeping now. It might take a while for him to wake up, so if you guys still need to go anywhere, we’ll just tell him. But for now, you can all rest here however long you want.”

Dongmyeong and Hyungu left the room soon after, Dongmyeong spending a few minutes to catch up with Dongju and tease the younger. 

Geonhak looked among his coven when the duo had walked away. “Do you guys want to have a nap? You practiced some magic so I’m betting you’re a little tired too. I can keep watch or something, but I’ll probably get some sleep,” he suggested. 

Dongju was quick to agree, going to lay down beside Hwanwoong, weaving arms around the other and slotting himself underneath the other’s chin. They heard Hwanwoong hum pleasantly, and then smiled and laughed at the following sound of rumbling purrs. Dongju himself chuckled at the sound, tried to imitate it with some success, and another, deeper bout of purring came from Hwanwoong at the attempt. It made Dongju laugh loudly, though it was muffled into Hwanwoong’s shirt. 

Seoho laid down on the other bed, next to where Geonhak was seated, and quietly arranged himself on the mattress.

“Has anyone ever told you you sleep like the dead?” Geonhak said. Seoho looked at him and raised his brows. 

“I am, though?” Seoho replied flatly. 

Geonhak growled and bat at Seoho’s shoulder with a fist, making the older vampire howl with laughter, pleased with himself. 

“You’re  _ so _ annoying,” Geonhak huffed. Seoho giggled.

Keonhee sidled up next to Seoho, and Youngjo took a seat on the bed beside Hwanwoong and Dongju. He’d decided to stay up just a little bit more, check his phone for whatever he might have needed to. Geonhak was there to keep him company, and they let themselves chatter softly as the sound of their coven falling asleep slowly took over the space. After replying to his father’s messages, Youngjo let out a yawn and Geonhak looked over at him.

“Get some sleep, hyung. I’ll set an alarm for us,” Geonhak said. Youngjo agreed with a nod, and he gently laid down and turned to his side, back to Hwanwoong’s, and felt warm and content as he let sleep take him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NHEHEHEHEH,,, dummie :'( but hey!!! Magic, yo!!  
> And speaking of magic,,, THE MV GUYS??? The views are going so fast!!! I'm so proud of us QAQ   
> I hope you guys have been having a good week and that you enjoy this entrance into devil era!!!


	37. thirty seven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys !! I hope the last week was kind to you! This chapter is still unbeta-ed ! I oops you guys like it!

Geonhak woke them up in four hours, after apologizing for oversleeping himself. His coven mates dismissed it, getting up and fixing themselves, combing through their hair with their fingers and fixing each other's clothes. Seoho told him, "You already look much less grumpy, 'Hak!" Geonhak cuffed him upside the head. It was true, though. 

Their eyes were brighter, and magic was a shallow sensation in their breaths. It danced energetically between them and made the air kind. A temporary ridding of the pain of yesterday and the uncertainties of tomorrow. 

After making themselves presentable — Keonhee had laughed at the plethora of flyaway hairs on Hwanwoong's head as he fixed it, and Youngjo had told him off for teasing, appeasing a pouting Hwanwoong with compliments — they went to Hyungu and his coven to say goodbye. 

Yonghoon was awake by then, sitting up the bed and cuddled close to his coven. He brightened at the sight of them, before it changed into something more chastising. 

"Why didn't you tell any of the others you were tired?" Yonghoon said, looking pointedly at Hwanwoong. His voice was never unkind, but it had a tone to it that made Hwanwoong fluster. 

"Sorry…." Hwanwoong mumbled, trying for a laugh to assuage the awkwardness he felt. 

Yonghoon was never good at staying angry. His features softened and he chuckled.

"You're all  _ horrible _ at taking breaks," Yonghoon said, exasperation in his tone alongside begrudging amusement. Dongmyeong laughed at the comment, and stood up. He tugged on his twin's arm, bringing Dongju into the pile on the massive bed, and then Youngjo was smiling brightly while he pushed his coven into the embrace as well.

The hug was short for its size, but comfortable nonetheless. They could feel — easier to realize, now, so much less complicated to notice the threads of it — Yonghoon’s magic reaching around them softly, bathing them in comfort. After a while, they separated, and Harin finally led Youngjo's coven to the door. They greeted each other a good night and Geonhak pat Harin on the shoulder, promising to meet soon for a workout session which entailed a sigh from Dongju. 

Keonhee looked at the fledgling inquisitively, who grumbled in answer, "They're going to try and make me join them. I just know it." Keonhee was understanding and offered the other a consoling touch to the shoulder. That didn't mean that Keonhee didn't smile at the thought. Dongju glared at the other's expression.

Harin offered Hwanwoong his phone number as well, smile bright on his face, and Hwanwoong smiled back. “Thank you,” Hwanwoong said, bowing ever so slightly, making Harin chuckle. 

“Thank you, too. Don’t forget to get some rest.” Harin’s eyes were kind and energetic, but perceptive and glowing with the magic of the moon.

Hwanwoong nodded, and Youngjo could practically hear the hushed thought of,  _ “I’ll try,” _ from the man he knew never understood how to stop. Youngjo wanted to hold his hand. 

Nonetheless, Youngjo stepped closer to Hwanwoong as their coven crowded around one another, Keonhee’s phone opened to the map they were attempting to follow. If they wanted to, they could look up at the city skyline and find whatever it was that they needed — a spire that towered, but fell flat of grandeur, because Youngjo remembered briefly that it had been caught in an old storm while they were constructing it. But they didn’t want to, and instead Youngjo watched as Seoho tried to mislead Keonhee, who would almost follow, except Geonhak would grumble and his eyebrows would pinch together, and Keonhee whined as the two older vampires tugged incessantly at his shirt. 

As Dongju plucked a pack of snacks they’d brought he swung Hwanwoong’s hand as they walked. It was the one farther from Youngjo, and so Youngjo shyly locked his pinky with Hwanwoong’s. Hwanwoong turned to him, slightly startled, the briefest flash of color in his eyes — he must still have been groggy, Youngjo thought as he remembered all the moments he’d learnt from — before it mellowed into affection. Love bloomed on Youngjo’s tongue and spread across his throat, leading into his stomach and coating everything in sweetness and contentment. He looked forward, hands warm where they brushed against Hwanwoong’s skin. 

Keonhee was good at following directions. Youngjo knew that — he wasn't like Geonhak, who could get lost almost laughably easy. (Youngjo  _ would _ laugh, if he could manage to at the very least find Geonhak when the other did go missing.) 

But Keonhee was good at orienting himself, something Youngjo thought might have been because of the years he’d spent beside Hwanwoong and Seoho, all of them cautious as they tread through forests and kept the eyes of the sun far away from their shadows. And so Keonhee looking at Seoho as if he couldn’t read the map that Seoho was flipping every which way was endearing.

After a few minutes, interspersed with Hwanwoong playing gently with Youngjo’s hands and Dongju’s as well; blunt fingernails digging slightly into Youngjo’s skin, the mall appeared. Geonhak and Seoho were still bickering over directions, trying to speak over one another in a conversation of, “I told you we were supposed to take a right!” and, “I  _ know _ you did. I meant the  _ next _ right.”

Dongju and Hwanwoong looked up at Youngjo with exasperation evident in their expressions, rolling their eyes in sync, making Youngjo laugh and shrug his shoulders. He simply elected to say, “There’s a cafe over by the left side. The plushies are sort of in the middle.”

Dongju and Keonhee’s eyes clearly lit up at the mention of food, and it was obvious they wanted to go there first, and so Youngjo led them over to the entrance. 

Hwanwoong and Seoho were much more used to people, to the thrum of life around them, thumping of heartbeats. Youngjo still watched them, told them in hushed tones that it would be alright, and winced still when the pair would still freeze with anxiety around loud conversation. But it was much easier now, and it hurt Youngjo’s heart less because he could see the two take in a breath and simply walk through the streets and through the guards. 

With the night so late, there were only a few people roaming through the mall. Odd handfuls of children with their parents or pairs holding hands or waving each other goodbye. 

(It was almost like home, Youngjo thought fleetingly. It was his coven, filling his lungs and making him alive, and so it was home. The world, no matter how big, always fell down into the focus of his family — the people around him. Seoho’s smile and Geonhak’s laughter; the gentle chiding from Dongju and raucous noise from Keonhee; Hwanwoong and the light that poured out of him. They filled up whatever space that they could, lifeless but larger than the lives Youngjo had seen live before. 

But he knew that it wasn’t  _ home, _ either. It was a near enough thing, maybe, because it was the people he would fight for, lay down everything for. Yet it missed the memories of the walls and floorboards. This concrete jungle had nothing to say about the way that Dongju had woken up that day and forgotten in a surprising slight to fold his bed covers. Nothing to chime with the reminder that Seoho kept using Geonhak’s things and Geonhak misplaced Seoho’s laptop on purpose in rebuttal. No wrappers sneakily hidden under covers and books from when Keonhee had woken up in the middle of the night to eat. Not a whisper of the hangers and coats that Hwanwoong would leave wherever when he found he didn’t like his outfit.)

The cafe was quiet and quaint, the staff there turning to regard them with a practiced greeting. Keonhee reflexively replied, and then Hwanwoong went to take a seat on the booth in the corner. He took out his phone, starting to scroll mindlessly through his applications and taking a few moments to snap a picture of Keonhee looking through the displays. Dongju was tailing Keonhee, hands flapping about childishly in glee as he walked about. 

Looking around, Youngjo could see the appeal. The cafe was a simple one — following the pattern of muted colors and neutral tones throughout the motif. It was cozy, though still obviously a cafe. There were peaches and hints of yellow interspersed throughout the furniture, small pops of color that Youngjo could see in detail with keen eyes. There were pretty lights, dangling from the ceiling and flowing over the walls. Give it a few more weeks, and he didn’t doubt that there would be christmas lights pouring out from the corners. The tables were their small little islands, well-spaced and sturdy in their wooden build. There were the odd setup of plants, succulents, whatever the management could get hold of. There was a delightful corner of herbs hidden away, closer to the kitchen that to the general area.

He tapped on Hwanwoong’s shoulder, making the younger look at him curiously. Youngjo held out his hand, and Hwanwoong quirked a brow in confusion. Hwanwoong placed his own hand on it, making Youngjo laugh and flush.

“Your phone,” Youngjo clarified, “I’ll take your picture.”

Hwanwoong’s eyes brightened, a smile making his face light and mirth filling his features. He gave Youngjo his phone and then went to a small, hidden booth near the back of the room. He must have already seen it, Youngjo thought delightfully. 

He followed the smaller vampire and watched as Hwanwoong turned to him, slightly shy though his smile was wide and confident. 

Hwanwoong liked taking pictures. Regardless of whether it was himself or his coven mates or even the pathways through the forest, Hwanwoong liked taking pictures. He knew how to take them, kept his arms still and made the light pour from the corners and into the center of his images. Hwanwoong would sometimes stop in the middle of their walks, excitement in his eyes as he excused himself from the small trek their coven would take. He would lean down to small flowers and to the ancient trees, and he would take pictures of them before taking pictures of himself beside whatever beauty of nature he could find. 

(Youngjo thought they were equally as beautiful.)

Youngjo suggested Hwanwoong to stand next to the quaint plant they had, and the other did, leaving Youngjo to snicker at the sight of one of the leaves hovering over Hwanwoong’s head. 

He took a few pictures for the other, letting Hwanwoong move about in the small space, relishing in the freedom he saw in the movements. Ease in the joints, and grace freely shown, the way that the moonlight seemed to just pour out of Hwanwoong alongside golden rays. 

Hwanwoong took pictures of Youngjo, too, demeanor serious as he snapped pictures of Youngjo posing around the place. Youngjo’s smile widened at the focus on Hwanwoong’s face, chuckling but still allowing the other to take the images.

Afterwards, they walked back to the booth, where Geonhak and Seoho were sitting. The two were quiet, pressed close enough together that they were occupying each other’s space, and so Youngjo took the seat opposite from them. Hwanwoong sat down beside Youngjo, pouting slightly at the sight of the seat he’d claimed earlier — where Seoho was, now — occupied. Youngjo offered him a hug to his side, and Hwanwoong conceded, sinking against Youngjo and making the world pink. 

Youngjo looked over to the counter, where Keonhee and Dongju were thoughtfully considering the choices the cafe offered. They had already ordered drinks, the sound easily traveling to their ears. The pair seemed to be hung up on food, debating about what Youngjo would like, and so he muttered his words loud enough for the others to hear, and saw Dongju nod from the corner of his eye. 

“Bubble tea,” Hwanwoong added from where he was, making Youngjo smile again. 

After a few more minutes, Keonhee and Dongju made their way to the table. Still, the cafe was empty except for them, and their voices were hushed. The gentle timbres were carried easily by the wind and they could hear the thrum of consonants — home, again. 

Dongju handed Youngjo his card, which Youngjo carefully maneuvered into his wallet, doing his best to not jostle Hwanwoong. Hwanwoong was swiping through the pictures, diligently checking through them and deleting anything that was too blurry for his taste. Among them, only one was something Youngjo wished Hwanwoong didn’t erase — the image of Hwanwoong smiling, the colors blurred together as the leaf blew into Hwanwoong’s grinning mouth and made the other stumble. It was fine, though, because Youngjo noticed that the next image was the same, though clearer. 

They waited for their food, and Youngjo hummed a small tune while they let comfort fall around in a blanket.

(Home, again, in different walls.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!! they're just !!! having a good time now okay?? they're all very cute together and I adore that  
> anyways!! I hope you guys liked that! A little down time to help gear up for the next chapters :')  
> if you guys liked this, please leave some feedback! I hope you guys have been having a good day and I hope this week is nice to you all!!  
> //SO so proud of oneus in this promotion so far, and proud of all the tomoons too !!! Take care of yourselves !!//


	38. thirty eight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys!!! still unbeta-ed, though I did go over it once for some little edits! there aren't any warnings I can think of for this chapter, though there is an angsty interlude in parentheses. I hope you guys enjoy this update!

Something that Dongju appreciated about vampirism was the fact that he knew what his meals were before they arrived at his table. The scent of the cafe around him was muted and dull, the soap they used to clean negating the months of wear and tear on the surfaces. And so the warm comfort of freshly cooked pastries settled deeply in his lungs, made his chest warm. 

They didn’t eat things like pastries much — didn’t need to. But it was pleasant, and Dongju liked it, and teleported cake really  _ did _ taste different, Dongju thought. A little bit staler — flavor replaced with the buzz of electricity. After the hours earlier, he could recognize the thrum of magic, taking from the world and leaving power in its wake. 

The drinks were the first to arrive, Hwanwoong grabbing his bubble tea happily, sipping at it. Iced tea came for the others, and Dongju busied himself with taking a few gulps of his Iced Americano. The taste hit the back of his throat and he hummed.

“How much did you buy your Ryan plushie for?” Keonhee asked as he tilted his glass to and fro, the ice clinking at the edges. 

Dongju shrugged honestly, turning instead to Youngjo, who followed with his own shrug.

“It’s okay,” Youngjo assured, and Keonhee just assented.

Dongju smiled. They had gotten much better at that — accepting their help. Except for earlier, which made Dongju frown again.

Geonhak took notice of Dongju’s expression and asked the fledgling what was wrong, but Dongju just shook his head in dismissal and poked at Hwanwoong’s side. Hwanwoong yelped and glared at Dongju from his spot beside Youngjo, and Dongju poked at him again. Hwanwoong raised a brow, inquisitive, but said nothing as he relaxed back into Youngjo’s side. 

“Why didn’t you say you were tired,” Dongju said, voice flat yet pouting at the same time. The rest of the table turned to look accusingly at Hwanwoong at the mention of the early evening, and Dongju thought he could see a flicker of magic from Youngjo — reactive. Hwanwoong shrank shyly under their gazes, smiling slightly in his embarrassment. 

“You all seemed like you were enjoying doing some magic, so I just wanted you to focus on that. I could handle it,” Hwanwoong answered, with a purposeful gaze on Seoho. Seoho in turn puffed his cheeks, another silent conversation between the two Dongju still didn’t always understand.

(Dongju knew that Seoho and Keonhee spoke silently, in a sense that there were words shared across the air that nobody could hear. Syncing of thoughts, because they heard the same thing; laughing within seconds of one another because their mind heard what ears couldn’t. Seoho and Hwanwoong spoke  _ through _ silence, each pause punctuated with meaning. It was fascinating, and Dongju adored that about them.)

“We should just make an alarm for you,” Geonhak suggested.

“Alarm?” Hwanwoong echoed. 

“The ‘We aren’t sure if this is normal Hwanwoong behavior or if he's not taking care of himself again’ alarm,” Dongju answered. 

Hwanwoong flushed slightly, a short exclamation of laughter bubbling into his drink. 

“Seriously,” Hwanwoong pressed, once he was done coughing from the barrage of boba, “I’m  _ fine _ now.” 

“But you weren’t earlier,” Geonhak retorted. Hwanwoong, instead of replying, simply made a whining sound and sipped once more on his bubble tea. 

It was only a few minutes more before their cakes arrived, and silence was company as they ate. It was comfortable, still, and they were pressed close together — a bubble of comfort and safety. Dongju leaned his head slightly on Hwanwoong’s shoulder as he snacked on the last few bites of his cake and then pushed it away from him. He patiently waited for Hwanwoong to get three bites in before asking for some from the older vampire, repayment for nearly half of Dongju’s own cake that Hwanwoong had  _ tasted. _ Hwanwoong easily gave him the pieces, almost thoughtless, which made Dongju’s heart warm. 

(Dongju’s age was small, in the eyes of the ancient vampires that surrounded him. He wasn’t  _ young _ by any means, and he knew how to handle himself. But he knew that he wasn’t as practiced — aside from the hunts that Youngjo would let him take, he’d never had the necessity nor desire to live in the forests. It was nice, to feel the dust of the years on the earth settle into the bottom of his chest, make history known to him past even his own years. But it wasn’t familiar to him. He didn’t know the scent of flowers that belonged to the mountains, couldn’t tell the rush of water and the stories it would rumble. 

But Hwanwoong did — Youngjo, and Geonhak, and Keonhee, Seoho — every one of them had tread the soil of the earth and not within cement nor on the brick of paths. Dongju teased them for how life had trodden on their faces, left lines and marks in their eyes and lightly on their skin. But it was just them, and he loved them, so he loved those, too. 

The warmth they had was more worn but so  _ kind, _ the memories of the older days, sticking to them, mingling in their breaths through phantoms. They took care of Dongju, and their words were like the wind of autumn and spring; a sequence of changing that would lead to the tilting of the world. They were just kind.

And Dongju always preened under the fact that they allowed themselves to be kind. That they  _ could _ allow themselves to be kind. He knew of the nightmares that woke Seoho and Hwanwoong — could sometimes smell brimstone coming off from their skin when they would wake up with sobs cracking under the pressure of their silences. Knew that Geonhak would sometimes have nights where there would be staring at the skies. Questions forming in his coven mate’s mind that Dongju sometimes heard before. He said the same thing to Geonhak when that happened, “It’s alright now,” and always felt love spread across his fingertips when Geonhak nodded. 

Hwanwoong was independent. Dongju knew that — it wasn’t just from the fear the world had instilled in him, but it was just Hwanwoong. Hwanwoong gave what kindness he could, and he would seek out what he needed, but never refused refusal. And so sometimes he didn’t ask for what he wanted, when it was want that he had to address. It was odd, Dongju mused, and sometimes grew irritated thinking about. 

His coven was good at taking care of themselves, except for when they  _ really _ needed to, in which case they forewent that entirely. They pretended not to understand why he mothered over them so often. He would let them.)

Dongju let Hwanwoong have the final bite of cake, and let Keonhee have a sip of his Iced Americano. Seoho was sitting on his hands, rocking slightly from side to side, and Geonhak was scrolling through his phone. 

“Do you want to buy the plushie now?” Hwanwoong asked as he put his fork down, wiping lightly at the side of his mouth with his finger. 

Keonhee turned to him quickly, smiling, and then nodded. Dongju briefly thought about whether or not he would also buy a plushie, and came to the decision that he’d likely just find out later.

Geonhak left a tip at their table and they left the cafe, leisurely in their pace. The mall was even emptier, and Dongju could skip along as he walked without the embarrassment of the action creeping in. 

It was Dongju that led them towards the shop, familiar with the directions and familiar as well with the comforting scent of soft fabric pressing against stuffing. There were a few other shops that they passed by as they went, and Hwanwoong’s eyes trailed through a store full of crystals and gems. They’d forgotten to ask Yonghoon for some, he remembered. 

“We should go back and ask Yonghoon hyung for gems,” Geonhak said, easily reading Hwanwoong’s lingering gaze. They all nodded in agreement, with Hwanwoong looking content.

It took only a few minutes before they arrived at the shop. It was sparsely populated, with only two employees manning the entire booth. There were somber and gentle lights through the shelves, lining their perimeters and making the store glow a soft blue. It made the plushies look slightly washed out, but it mattered very little what with the strong vibrant dyes on the cloth. Dongju could see that there were a few new plushies since the last time he’d been there, and one caught his attention. It was cute — a small white and gold tiger, probably fitting in between his arms though with a little room to spare. (Like Hwanwoong, he thought.) 

He walked over to it before stopping and helping Keonhee orient himself toward the Ryan plushie first. Keonhee gave a quick quip of thanks and then Dongju went back to grabbing the tiger plush. Hwanwoong was looking around as well, though it was mostly glancing through them and not paying much attention. He would grab one and happily show it to Seoho, Youngjo, or Geonhak, before putting it back. Once, Dongju heard Youngjo ask, “Aren’t you planning on buying anything?” and Hwanwoong shook his head gently. 

“It’s okay,” he’d answered, and laughed at the delighted outcry Seoho gave upon finding some sort of frog bag.

“What about a Tigger tsum tsum,” Geonhak suggested, pulling one from the rack in front of him. Hwanwoong shrugged his shoulders, reaching out for it. Geonhak handed it to him and let the other squish it. It was a sequence of prods and pulling, ending in the endearing and amusing sight of Hwanwoong leaning his head lightly on it like a pillow. 

“It’s nice,” Hwanwoong conceded, and smiled up sweetly at Youngjo. (Youngjo — a lovesick fool if ever Dongju had ever seen one — smiled back with hearts in his eyes.

“You can buy whatever you want,” Youngjo said; made Dongju almost roll his eyes at how softly his voice came out. He looked over at Keonhee, who was pretending not to have heard.)

Keonhee came back with an armful of Ryan plushies — simple ones, large ones, accessories,  _ bee _ ones — and blinked innocently at Youngjo. Youngjo chuckled and gestured for him to put it on the counter, where the employees looked pleasantly at the group. 

Dongju went over with his own tiger plush and poked at the Tigger tsum tsum Hwanwoong put down a few moments after. Hwanwoong gave him a mock glare of disgust, pulling the plush towards himself. Dongju stuck his tongue out at the other and then waited as Youngjo paid for the plushies.

It took only a few silent minutes, and it seemed as though Youngjo didn’t know these cashiers, and so they were out of the shop fairly quickly. Seoho was already holding his frog bag — Pepe the frog, he informed them none too calmly — in his arms, slinging it over himself constantly, thoroughly amused by it. Keonhee fished out the bee Ryan from his bag of plushies to hold against his chest, and Hwanwoong clutched lightly at his tsum tsum.

“Is there anywhere else you guys wanted to go?” Dongju asked, and the rest shrugged. Deciding that they didn’t have anything else to do, they started heading towards the exit. They grabbed a few snacks from the stalls they would see on their way out, ordering a couple of drinks from the little shop near the entrance as well. They passed by the crystals again and Dongju noticed Hwanwoong look curiously inside. 

“What’s up?” Seoho asked, and Hwanwoong turned to look at the other briefly. 

“Some are broken,” Hwanwoong said. His voice was sure and cautious but concerned nonetheless. Slightly lilting — a question, if not for the fact that he knew the answer.

Geonhak’s brows furrowed. “Broken?”

Hwanwoong excused himself, bowing his head slightly at the people inside as he entered, walking purposefully towards one shelf. It was an array of all different gems and crystals, shining under the white light the store had. He picked one up, gently rejecting the offers from the workers to help look at the gems, and put it in front of his eyes. Light refracted off from a translucent crystal, prismatic and pretty as they made color dance on Hwanwoong’s face. 

He put it back down with a look of worry marring his features. He sent a glance at Youngjo, slightly sheepish, as he went over to the cashier with the crystal he’d held and a few others. Youngjo followed wordlessly and paid for it, and then they were out of the shop. 

“What’s wrong with it?” Keonhee queried. 

Hwanwoong put it up against the light again, though the color of the rays around them were warmer in the main halls of the mall. As Dongju and the others looked at the crystal; Youngjo, Dongju, and Seoho jumped; a feeling of electricity across their wrists, circling, and then the appearance of dark mist forming a line through the middle of one of the crystals. As they looked at the other small gems, they could find similar webs of the dark clouds. 

“What is that?” Dongju asked, brows furrowed, and even Geonhak and Keonhee were looking uneasily at it. 

“Miasma,” Hwanwoong mumbled.

Seoho looked alarmed at that, and Dongju wasn’t familiar enough with what it was — but he knew that it wasn’t good. There was a flare of orange magic, a flash of Seoho’s eyes turning red, before Hwanwoong nudged the other. Seoho’s expression cleared, and then he chuckled, sighing.

“We should be more careful,” Seoho said, and started walking again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :'D I hope you guys liked it!! A little bit of Dongju's perspective on his coven and little interactions! But still a little bit of mysterious stuff 👀   
> If you guys liked it or want to talk about anything, feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments! Kudos are also much appreciated :')   
> Thank you so much for reading and I hope you all have a good day!


	39. thirty nine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello again!!! this chapter is still unbeta-ed qwq  
> no warnings for this chapter, but if anyone thinks that there should be, please feel free to tell me ! i hope you enjoy it ^^

Geonhak shot off a quick message to Harin, telling the other they would be coming back to their home, asking if Yonghoon maybe had any crystals to spare for them. Harin left the message on read, and Geonhak pocketed his cell.

“They know we’re coming,” Geonhak told his coven, and the others gave their acknowledgements. 

Walking back to the outskirts was simple — though their eyes were dragging; always watching, now. Hwanwoong’s hands fiddled with the crystals, running them over his fingers clumsily, feeling them against his palms.

Hwanwoong looked up at the night sky briefly. He watched the stars twinkle in the darkness, still traveling despite the pollution of the world around him. Crystals were of the earth, and they spilled magic all into the world. Some would provide clarity, and protection, or whatever else — he wasn’t familiar with all of them, but he knew how they felt, and that was enough for him. The onyx crystal at home — it had felt like a warm campfire in his arms, the heat of it enveloping cold skin and making the air easier to breathe for lungs full of smoke. It was the ease of being with his coven, condensed into something he could hold in his hands. Like Dongju’s chin resting on his shoulder, or Keonhee waving him about in an embrace; Geonhak’s arms winding around his, pulling playfully but gentle; Seoho sitting next to him and sinking into the couch, laying his head on Hwanwoong’s shoulder; searching for Youngjo’s hands and the locking their fingers together.

As he looked back down at the crystals in his hands, they felt  _ wrong. _ Like splinters from metal, or thread cutting through fabric, or needles made from magic. And so he continued to play with them, moving them, keeping them from burning at his palm if he stopped fiddling with them. 

(He would need to break them, to make the smoke stop from whatever else it would try to corrupt. He didn’t want it touching his coven, didn’t want it tainting the air of the world that had been given to him. He’d forgotten exactly how to break blessings, but he thought — a dark chuckle echoing in his mind, making him breathe deeply — that given he was what he was, that would be easy enough.) 

Keonhee was occupied with his Ryan plushies, cycling through them as they walked, replacing the bee Ryan with the normal one, and then another with a cute hat. Dongju was still sipping at his coffee while Geonhak played with his empty container absentmindedly.

In a few minutes, Hwanwoong thought, it would be well past midnight, and a few hours before sunrise. He looked back up at the sky and wondered how it was that the sun, the prideful thing that it was, couldn’t learn to give what it had taken. 

The edges of the woods and forest appeared again, purple light through its branches, and the scent of soil once more found its way into the wind that skirted alongside Hwanwoong and his coven. In a few moments, filled with idle chatter, they once more saw the comforting and warm outline of Yonghoon and his coven’s home. 

They smiled at the sight of it, at the humming of music that came from the wooden divots in the layers of walls. 

And then Hwanwoong was stopping in his tracks, staring at the home, eyes drifting over the frame of it, and a choked sound came from the back of his throat; making his coven turn in alarm, eyes once more flashing to their surroundings because — (Because  _ what? _ There was nothing they could see, and they could see so  _ far, _ and for so long, and yet Hwanwoong was seeing something they couldn’t, and yet somehow he was seeing  _ it.) _ — the air stilled. 

Youngjo’s eyes flitted back to the home, and then he grit his teeth, something painful rising and squeezing at the base of his skull. A flare of something hurting, hurting  _ him, _ making his ears ring a foreign sound. (Magic, but not his, and not one he knew.)

Geonhak was already running in the moment it took Youngjo to see wisps of black, and then all of them were dashing past the porch, crossing thresholds, opening the door and finding Yonghoon and his coven. 

It was the briefest of glances — checking for blood and injury, finally breathing when none were seen. And then pain at the undercurrent of fear and anxiety they could see in their eyes, blue and purple magic spiking in the air in concern for themselves.

"What happened?" Hwanwoong asked softly, eyes troubled, hands shaking, looking like he wanted to bolt and scream and tear. 

Yonghoon shook his head, his breath rattling with it. 

"We don't know. There was some sort of surge, but we're okay."

Geonhak looked at the coven. Yonghoon was gathering them — his family, a coven, formed under the night and living through the day, formed through love and care where others did not trust — in his embrace, arms squeezing them close to him. Giwook's eyes were still frantic. Hyungu’s grip seemed almost painful on Yonghoon’s sleeve, and his eyes were flashing through a cycle of crimson and umber uneasily, lips thinned. Dongju was sidling next to Dongmyeong, putting his brother at ease, but both of them were afraid. Harin’s eyes were glowing golden and flashing through a burst of blue, tense, poised to protect. 

“Sorry,” came Hwanwoong’s whisper, and they all looked at him. Seoho and Keonhee bristled, though they said nothing. 

“What?” Dongmyeong asked, thoroughly confused, eyebrows drawn together. 

“It’s… It’s my fault, I’m sorry,” Hwanwoong said, and it petered out into near-nothingness despite their enhanced senses. A silence charged with regret and retribution, pain curdling the syllables. 

“Why?” Giwook asked next. There was nothing in his voice but kindness and warmth, blameless breaths. “How is it your fault?”

Hwanwoong’s eyes remained trained on the floor, hands fiddling, until Yonghoon untangled himself from the cluster of witch-werewolf-vampire on the floor. Yonghoon walked carefully over to Hwanwoong, who flinched, and Seoho and Keonhee were behind him the moment that Hwanwoong’s irises flickered to meet Yonghoon’s. Youngjo felt his own hand twitch, a mantra running behind his ears, crossing under the skin of his eyes, a whisper of,  _ “Protect him, he’s scared, it’s wrong, help him, he’s hurt.” _

Gently, slowly, bending his knees slightly to match Hwanwoong’s height, Yonghoon took Hwanwoong’s hand into his own and Hwanwoong’s eyes shone with befuddlement. 

“These crystals say otherwise,” Yonghoon muttered, sure, and Hwanwoong’s next breath was punched out of him. The sound of the crystals falling out of Hwanwoong’s palm and into Yonghoon’s were a piercing sound in the thick air, and it sounded brittle, as if they were shattering. Yonghoon looked down at them with a placating expression on his face. 

(The force of those words, of reminders of his humanity, because Hwanwoong still forgot, even when he wanted not to.)

“But they’re following  _ me,” _ Hwanwoong persisted. His hands dropped from where they were hovering over Yonghoon’s. A weight behind those words — but nothing in them, making Youngjo’s heart light. 

“And that’s not  _ your fault,” _ Keonhee pressed as well, voice solid under the foundation of Yonghoon’s confidence. There was a grateful look shot Yonghoon’s way, who returned it with a simple smile. 

“You know it isn’t,” Seoho added, and again; age in his words, the slivers of the years bleeding from them. 

“I feel like I’m missing something,” Geonhak mumbled, shoulders dropped but still locked and wary. Hwanwoong looked at him, a little embarrassed, red at the ears — red rimming his eyes a well. Geonhak walked over to him, a quick offer of comfort. One that Hwanwoong accepted in the moment it took, burying his face into Geonhak’s chest, and the two melted tension from their frames in the cloud of safety. 

“I told you someone was chasing me, right?” Hwanwoong mumbled into Geonhak’s shirt. Geonhak nodded, chin hitting the top of Hwanwoong’s head with the motion, making the others in the room chuckle. 

“They did this?” Geonhak hummed, voice soft — Youngjo was reminded of Geonhak under starlit nights, surrounded by children from villages, clamoring for their parents, a detour not usually taken, and Geonhak gathering them all under his arms and promising them all the safety he could give.

Hwanwoong sighed and nodded. 

“How’s that your fault, then?” Geonhak asked.

Another sigh, this one almost amused — incredulity at his own foolishness. 

(Geonhak smiled, then, something soft and measured. Pleased, warmth blooming in his heart, because Hwanwoong learnt.)

“I still need to help protect you all, at least,” Hwanwoong said, and there was no space to argue — none that was expected either. 

“Is that what you need crystals for?” Harin asked. Hwanwoong shuffled slightly, moving in Geonhak’s embrace to meet gazes with Harin before nodding shyly. 

“I have some to spare,” Yonghoon said kindly, smiling. “We’ll purify these first, though.”

Hwanwoong looked back down at the crystals and they saw his eyes burn, a flame rising again, alongside something  _ else, _ something that felt like a memory but tasted of ash and dust. “Thank you,” was all that he said.

•────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅────•

Hwanwoong was unpracticed and unfamiliar with the way that magic swirled around the broken crystals. They would form shapes only to splinter at one end and crack under the gestures of Yonghoon’s fingers. But it felt similar, to things under his hands, something whispering a broken breath and whimpering a promise that would never be fulfilled. 

Yonghoon was relaxed as he did the rituals, no mark of exhaustion from the hours earlier in the night. It helped Hwanwoong breathe easier, less of a weight settling and battering at his ribs to scream about help and all the years he hadn’t needed it. 

The crystals came away in halves — or thirds, and fourths, and some in barely recognizable puffs of smoke because of the tarnished magic that made a home in the earth. 

Yonghoon told them he would keep them, maybe find a way to use them with nothing but brightness in his voice. Kindness that made its home not just because it was found and sheltered but because Yonghoon could be nothing but gentle and loving and forgiving. 

(If Hwanwoong tried, he could almost be jealous. Jealous that Yonghoon had kindness sticking to his skin, breathing his air, staring at his eyes with a smile and a jovial cheer. 

Hwanwoong wanted to know, wanted to mutter in a smile that was too much blood and too much teeth, wanted to wonder how it was that the world and the sky and its stars chose who to shine on and did not let light through the nightmares of the sun itself. Wanted to know why Seoho had to wake through nightmares and Keonhee had to lie, wanted to know why it was that sometimes Geonhak would still stutter and pause when voices were too loud and greetings too forward. Wanted to know the reasons that the gods could give them for making Dongju not know the comfort of not knowing anything, wanted to know how Helios would scream about the way that Youngjo had almost believed he was worth anything less than everything. 

But Yonghoon was kind — kind to himself and kind to others and teaching kindness that Hwanwoong had started to forget. And so Hwanwoong couldn’t be jealous, could be nothing but thankful because Yonghoon was Yonghoon, and Hwanwoong could see the joy of his coven. Yonghoon’s, and his own. All magical but all human as well, and all witch and vampire and werewolf.)

“Here’s some of those crystals you wanted,” Yonghoon said, and he was still smiling. Simple, and gentle, because Yonghoon couldn’t be anything else. Hwanwoong grinned at him, looking up, and honest in his gratitude as he felt the comfort of small onyx and obsidian and amethyst, the jagged fierceness of jasper and quartz. 

“Thank you,” Hwanwoong replied, and was assured that Yonghoon knew by the way that Yonghoon’s smile widened. 

•────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅────•

“Please stay safe,” Geonhak told them all as they were leaving, an undercurrent of severity heavy on his tongue.

The cloud of anxiety that had been pushed away came back, trickling in slowly, starting from fumbling hands to flickering eyes. 

“We’ll definitely try,” Dongmyeong assured, and that was the best they could all hope for.

“You should take care going home, too,” Harin advised. “Sun’s coming up soon and we don’t know if whoever did…  _ that,” _ he emphasized, not quite familiar and not quite sure and not quite safe, “Is still close by either.”

Geonhak nodded, alongside Youngjo, and then they greeted each other farewell, with smiles and promises and assurances to talk to one another.

Even through the thick of the woods and the mist of dawn approaching, Geonhak couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!! we're really in it now, huh !!! we're sort of getting back into plot!! i hope the character interactions so far have made sense ^~^;;;  
> i hope you guys have had a good week >:000  
> feel free to leave some comments if you'd like to talk about whatever is going on in the fic so far ^o^)/


	40. forty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey everyone !!! i hope you all were well the past week ! this chapter is still unbeta-ed, so if you find any errors please feel free to tell me !
> 
> WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER !  
> It's nothing too intense or heavy, but later on in the chapter the characters do get really anxious and exhausted from these anxieties and there are some descriptions of this! There's also slight discussions of people getting injured, but nothing graphic.

It began slowly. 

Hwanwoong had slowly taken the crystals and spread them throughout the room — even more _theirs,_ now, under the threat of danger. Placing the shining things in corners and beside them carefully, smiling as he handed one to Dongju for the fledgling to wear around his neck. 

(Returning home slowly and letting the electricity of warning that came from the rampant magic under their hands carry them. Grabbing little more than what they needed, though still smiling, but with eyes that remained on their coven for seconds too long.

And Hwanwoong had walked to the onyx crystal, taken it to the bathroom before anyone could see him, weaved his hands in the intricate, languid patterns he had seen from Yonghoon and heaved a pleased sigh when he saw the cracks inside fizzle into nothingness and fill with gold. He’d returned it to its wooden stage and wiped at his eyes with a small grin when he saw a surge of gold make rings inside of its void.)

When they had gone to sleep that night, there was almost a moment where Dongju had wanted to drag them to the floor, surround each other in a cocoon of safety. Instead, they had let Dongju push one of the beds closer to Hwanwoong’s in measured seconds, and nobody minded the change in order — Seoho pressed into the wall, back to Keonhee’s; Geonhak’s arm draped over Dongju and settled beside Hwanwoong; and Youngjo’s face buried in the fabric of Geonhak’s clothes. It was safe, and small, and nobody could see them except themselves. The curtains were drawn ever tighter on the windows, even the trying rays of early morning unshining and hidden in their room.

They had woken almost all in the same breath, though all to the same sound, only seconds early. Their eyes opened, groggy and tired and worn, and they’d began shuffling out of their nest when Youngjo’s phone pinged with a notification. 

Youngjo rolled over in the bed, hands grasping blindly for the phone, and then brought it close to his face. 

“It’s from Hongjoong,” he told the room, and the others hummed in acknowledgement.

Until Geonhak noticed Youngjo’s silence. Something uneasy and tense through the air, making it sour. In the background, Geonhak could hear Dongju and Keonhee chatting, a conversation about what they would be eating for breakfast. Seoho and Hwanwoong, sleepily urging each other to use the bathroom first. 

Geonhak walked over to Youngjo, a gentle tap on his arm, something unspoken, and felt his heart clench in pain at Youngjo’s expression.

“Youngjo?” Geonhak called. A testing volume, low and brought lower under his voice. 

Youngjo didn’t reply, simply flipped his phone about in his hands and showed the screen to Geonhak. 

Geonhak had to grab it to read the letters, squinting against the harsh light of the screen, before his lungs seized for a moment and he had to breathe deeply. Make the world stop spinning, keep his feet on the ground. 

“Are they alright?” was what Geonhak wanted to say, except it came out wrong, made it morph into, “Will we be okay?” and only after Youngjo whispered, “They’re fine.”

Still Youngjo’s eyes snapped to him at Geonhak’s question, something alarmed in them, making the light behind his eyes flare into something angry, something Geonhak had nearly forgotten Youngjo could be.

(Fiercely protective, and allowing himself to be greedy, to keep them all close to himself and no one else, because they were _his_ and he was theirs.)

“We will be,” Youngjo answered resolutely — harshness in his words and the weight of tumbling earth and cascading water.

The others were looking at them by then, concern coiled in their fingers and making their lips turn and teeth worry at soft flesh.

“Are you alright?” Keonhee asked, and there was something scared in his eyes/ But for them. more than for himself; unselfish, and kind, because he could be nothing else. When Geonhak looked, Seoho and Hwanwoong had grey in their irises — armor, again, because they knew the tones of fear and unsafety. Dongju was unnerved, almost shaken, and Geonhak walked over to him, slinging a gentle arm over the slighter frame and sighing. 

“What happened?” was Dongju’s question. 

Geonhak had to gulp, swallow nothing but the sour taste that had settled on his tongue. “Hongjoong’s coven saw a magical detonation go off nearby and some of their members they’d sent over to check got roughed up by the residual magic. No civilians were affected, so it’s from practiced magic casters.”

And the way that the earth stopped spinning was slow, as well. 

The grinding of plates against rocks, rattling in their ears, static in their minds; screaming unsafety, scratching at the binds and chains that seemed to wrap tightly around their necks. 

“They’re in the… the city, right?” Seoho asked.

There was a choked, devastated sound from Dongju that he tried to hide and a scramble and a whine as the fledgling tried to keep his hands still enough to grab the phone in his pocket and dial his brother. Still trying to smile — keep the early evening light.

When Dongmyeong answered, Geonhak let go of Dongju, let the fledgling sink slightly into the mattress behind him and talk to his twin.

Youngjo was typing furiously on his phone but with none of the anger from earlier. Just worry, and the cloud of care that was morphing into something panicked. 

(And Seoho and Hwanwoong and Keonhee watched; bit their tongues and tasted blood in their mouth pressing against their promises.)

“They said they’re all okay,” Dongju said after a few minutes of pressing insistence, repeating questions of, “Are you sure you’re all okay?”

“They felt it, too, but they weren’t close enough to get affected. Their enchantments are holding up really well, too. They’re planning to go over to Hongjoong hyung and help them out with their own enchantments.”

Keonhee let out a relieved gasp, alongside Hwanwoong dropping his shoulders.

Seoho wordlessly took Hwanwoong’s hand and led him out the room, and Keonhee watched them with some sort of resigned pain in his eyes that Youngjo had never seen before. Maybe the mist of it — only the concern and the worry, but never with the gravity of the nightmares crashing back into bright eyes.

•────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅────•

It followed with a crashing.

Their breakfast was silent. Rough sounds of cutlery on plates and sounds of meat being torn and blood drank. Youngjo sat next to Keonhee, and Geonhak to Seoho, and Dongju beside Hwanwoong. Seoho was smiling when he told them he would wash the dishes, and it hurt Geonhak to see the way that Seoho held away his words in his eyes while he said it. 

The rest of the day was full of trying to distract themselves — playing games, and smiling at the sound of laughter that would sometimes comes from their coven mates. Geonhak going to his room to work out, and Youngjo scribbling absently at the corners of the papers he began folding in his hands. Dongju holding close his plushies, going to his room to bring back more, laying on the bed with Hwanwoong and drawing the other’s arms around him. Keonhee watching whatever dramas would come on his page, and Seoho clicking whatever video he could find.

It was awkward, and it left them feeling uneasy after the weeks of never feeling alone. They were beside each other, sitting backs to one another, hands held in their own, but it felt emptier without the walls of safety they had built in the world that refused to let the moon shine. The weight of a city that should have been theirs to mold into a home crumbling under anxieties and doubts, the world refusing to let them rest.

Still, they tried to forget about it, because there was a coven in front of them, _their_ coven in front of them, and that was all that mattered. (Home when the walls were different; home in the empty spaces of a cafe; home in the smiles and the eyes of those they had sworn blood and flesh to because while Helios and his jealousy would split the Earth to hurt and maim, they were kindness and love.)

Dongju said, when he met eyes with Geonhak, “It was probably some of those odd mercenaries. They said nobody was really hurt, so it’s probably nothing,” and they decided that having a moment to watch a drama in the living room would tilt the Earth back onto its axis and let the moon continue revolving. 

Lunch was noisier. A little more talking, a little faster. Leaving the dishes in the dishwasher and then Seoho bothering Geonhak once more. Dinner was almost the same as previous weeks — smiling through the silence, peering up at their coven from behind the spoons and bowls. Asking for bites form one another, handing one another their bowls to try something. 

And so they went to sleep with the shadows receding, pushed back by reassurances from Dongju and Youngjo. 

•────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅────•

But the calls kept ringing. 

(Slowly, as well — at first. Youngjo had woken up in the late afternoon to the sound of his phone buzzing on the table beside him. It was too similar, too close, too much the same to yesterday. He felt the uneasiness crawl into his throat like a disease and creep behind his eyes, making him want to cry. 

But he picked up the call, listened, and gulped down the tar of discomfort in his lungs.)

Starting, once a day; slightly anxious, but enough of a feigned calmness that Youngjo would confide in Seoho and Geonhak alone, leave the others to their rest. (Ignore the way that they would look at him nonetheless, and hope that they couldn't hear him if he whispered. But he didn't trust that, knew it wasn't true, because he could hear measured footsteps and his coven trying to mask it. But still he whispered to Geonhak and said, “Seonghwa and Hongjoong are planning to move away from the city in the meanwhile.” Grit his teeth and told Seoho, “Sangyeon and his coven are trying to find who’s behind it.”)

And then it had become a few a day, and messages pinging against the metal of technology, and then Hwanwoong was wrapping fingers down around his ears and pressing down, trying to shut out the plethora of sounds that came suddenly from Youngjo's phone in his sleep. Dongju waking up through the clockwork of alarms in the mask of notifications. Seoho clutching at the sheets of the bed and trying to place his pillow over his head to hide the way that his breath would shake when he would wake; Geonhak having to retreat to his room and hide there to realize that they could still be safe — because he could still come back to their room and they would still be there. Keonhee hanging from Youngjo’s arms and listening silently to the conversations with a faraway expression.

"Hyung, Hongjoong is calling again," Keonhee said, voice weak and shaking and the ends riding into fear as he pointed tiredly at the phone Geonhak had left behind a minute earlier. (Exactly one, because Keonhee was counting, because Geonhak came back after five.)

Youngjo was worn down, after the days of incessant fear. Wanting to tell them to stop calling, because he couldn’t sleep, and his hands were shaking. 

Instead, he just accepted the ways that his coven would take his phone from him. Like Hwanwoong taking the space closest to the bedside cabinet and doing what he could to sleep shallowly or stay up so that he could take the call that Byeongkwan would send in the early morning hours. Or Dongju asking Yonghoon to call him, saying, “Youngjo hyung is sleeping still,” even though they knew that Youngjo was sitting with heavy eyes in front of his breakfast. Keonhee taking the calls from Hongjoong and helping them plot out their travel because Youngjo forgot where his maps were and Keonhee had the paths seared into his mind from the years of skirting the cities. Geonhak messaging Hwitaek and waking up before Youngjo did so that the oldest wouldn’t have to wipe eyes against the harsh morning light. Or like Seoho, taking the phone from where Keonhee was pointing at it and smiling at his coven as he listened to what Hongjoong was saying with occupied eyes. 

So Youngjo let them, because they didn’t ask, and so he couldn’t refuse. It would be oddly touching, except it wasn’t _odd_ anymore. It was honest, because it was something that had simply become theirs. Letting words be words and knowing that whatever they said was not everything they thought, or everything they felt. 

Even with the earth crumbling and the air torn with fire, Youngjo could feel safety even when there was none.

(A home he made for them, and now they were his home.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you guys liked that chapter !! (as much as i like parentheses...) :'D we're back in some slightly,,, plot-heavy territory! we still haven't left the station, but we're definitely going somewhere soon! if you have any theories about what's going on, feel free to leave some comments talking about it! or if you have any questions, don't feel afraid to ask either!  
> i hope you all have a good week !!! take care of yourselves !


	41. forty one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !! hey everyone! hope you're all doing well.  
> Slight warning for a mention of death and violence in the second little partitioning! Nothing too bad I think, but please take care!   
> I hope you guys all like this update!

It took two weeks for Hongjoong’s coven to leave the heart of the city, and Yonghoon and Hyungu had gone over to help them. Calls dwindled slowly, a welcome change from Youngjo wanting to hide from his phone, ignore the ringing of it all because there was too much _. _

In those weeks Hwanwoong had started to sit beside Youngjo, leaning his head on Youngjo’s shoulder to sleep instead of laying down on the bed. In those weeks, Youngjo had sighed, faced the ceiling as the sun started once more beating on the soil, and chuckled slightly with a hand threading together with Hwanwoong’s. He would think; think about the way that he wanted to fall in love and how he already had, and how Hwanwoong made it so  _ easy, _ even through the haze of everything that Hwanwoong never said. Think about how even through those weeks he never once felt his smile slip when he saw Hwanwoong, how his heart would never stop battering after its silence against his chest if Hwanwoong met his eyes and smiled.

He thought as well about his coven and how, though he would still be something without them, they had made him  _ him. _ Because he was not who he wanted to be if he never learnt the tears that could be shed by the man that would pretend he couldn’t smile but held the flame of warmth that even gods would cower from. Youngjo would mean so much less to himself if he never understood the depth of wisdom that was held in the body of someone that could only understand half of the stories in a heart of centuries. He wouldn’t see the stars; wouldn’t arrange them in the sky if not for loud mirth but silent gentleness — the wordless things that made his hands warm with a grin. The wind would never bring the sound of laughter and happiness if he had never heard to sound of it piercing through the walls and the barriers of his own loneliness. The sea would never mean the horizon, because there was never the line to learn that what separated the Sky and the Earth was the words of the bright heavens and the lights of its stars and that he could watch as both dispersed into the world of the night. 

And so he was still happy, even if his breaths were shorter and his eyes heavy from sleeplessness. He knew that through it all, even if at that moment the world was too small and so was he — he  _ knew _ that it would be alright. Because he was where he wanted to be. He had been where he wanted to be, once upon a time, and if that was not right now, there was still a tomorrow. Today, tonight, yesterday, he was tired. But he had tomorrow, and tomorrow brought his coven waking up beside him and looking at him without the need to ask because they knew what he wanted to say. 

He held Hwanwoong’s hand, let the other’s head sink into his chest and he kept Hwanwoong there with a gentle arm. And he closed his eyes and slept like that, with the entire world in arm’s reach. (Geonhak at the foot of the bed, along with Seoho. Dongju beside him and Keonhee somehow threaded through them all.)

•────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅────•

There was a crack. A branch breaking under the weight of heavy feet. Billowing white cloth with the trim of golden blood splattered across fine threads, pigment forming patterns that skirted at the edges and dripped onto the earth. Taking out crimson and replacing it with ichor.

Three measured tones, making the leaves sway uneasily with the breaths of them. It made wary beasts of the night skirting around the perimeters of their homes in fear of what horrors control might bring into chaos. They were lights shining from underneath dark hoods, bleeding from the sharp lines of their teeth and coloring marks underneath their eyes. 

They left prints in the mud of the earth though they kept strict silence. They were weighted with the watching eyes of the gods, burdened but relenting to the judgements they never made. 

One murmured something — newer, younger, less fearful. He was met with the snapping movements, exact and cruel as they stared at him and reprimanded disobedience. A hand was raised, light blooming forth with colorless, sparkling mist.

“You know questions are never to be uttered,” they said, but there was something less of belief and more of alarm. “He will not answer them.”

“I still don’t know why we’re doing this. Why  _ I’m _ doing this,” the boy retorted — fearless, again, foolish, hundreds of times over. 

Here, their voice was harsher, more forceful, a message they received and they planned on sending. “They’re  _ dangerous, _ and He wants it gone.”

“That shouldn’t be  _ my _ problem! I don’t even know if this thing exists,” he ground out, anger festering behind the hood, making gold shimmer and flare intensely. 

“We know it does,” another of the group said. Her voice was tired, but not of what they were doing, not the endless trekking through forests and the ravaging of the air of cities. She was exasperated, peeved at the unknowing of this boy about all the things they had learnt. Fed with the truths of a voice little more than thunder and lightning and believing it. 

“Why do we have to  _ kill _ it?” he persisted, throat red and painful. The hand around it eased, slightly apprehensive.

“It’s what He asks,” they replied. 

“And what does he know?” he ground out — final, and answerless, because they simply had to believe. 

•────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅────•

Hwanwoong woke up to the sound of lightning splintering wood echoing in his ears. 

He looked around, eyes scanning the room even through the fog of sleep, and found his coven safe and resting. He was the first of them to wake — unexpected, but appreciated, because there was something crawling along his skin that made him uneasy. He shuffled out of the cocoon his coven had made, gentle not to jostle Youngjo especially, whose head lolled onto empty space. 

He stepped closer to the stand with the onyx atop it and looked gently through the crystal. It was whole, still fixed by the magic he’d used to heal the tethers weeks before. It worried him still to hear the light sounds of something inside it threatening to crack. The gold from his magic had long since waned and it made him feel ungrounded. 

He was slow to react in surprise when Geonhak stretched awake. He fumbled with it in his hands before he was able to put it back, but Geonhak seemed not to notice and was still rubbing at his eyes. 

“Good morning,” Hwanwoong greeted. His voice came out rough, sleep-addled, but soft against his throat. (No more pain from days of the heat of the land, no longer parched beyond imagination for water and blood. No memories of crimson, the darkness of it and the dryness and scarcity rising and slipping past his teeth and making Seoho’s eyes turn red alongside floods of scarlet.)

“Are you hungry?” Geonhak asked, and Hwanwoong smiled slightly at the sound — sometimes, it amused him how  _ low _ Geonhak’s voice could go. 

“Not really,” Hwanwoong answered, and walked up to Geonhak. Geonhak, rubbing once more at his eyes, dropped one arm and extended it for Hwanwoong to slot himself into. Pleased, Hwanwoong burrowed into the space and he felt a trill escape instinctually. Geonhak, undeterred, pet softly at his head and Hwanwoong sighed. 

“I could grab a snack,” Geonhak hummed noncommittally, and Hwanwoong nodded absently, unrelenting as he embraced the other. 

“I need to get the snack, Woong,” Geonhak reiterated patiently, smiling in amusement. 

“I know,” Hwanwoong replied, and he was smiling, too, now. 

Hwanwoong yelped in a mixture of surprise and mirth when Geonhak maneuvered him into the taller vampire’s arms. It was a sight that the others gratefully woke up to, one at a time, the sound of it filling their chests with warmth. Then Hwanwoong was laughing freely, making Geonhak chuckle in tandem, easily carrying the slighter form through the house and depositing Hwanwoong onto the table. 

“Not even a chair?” Hwanwoong teased in mock annoyance, clambering off and into the chair in question.

“Sorry, your highness,” Geonhak replied, grabbing one of the packets of jerky from the cupboard and also a glass of blood from the refrigerator. He handed the glass to Hwanwoong before tearing sharp teeth into the jerky. Hwanwoong looked at the bags of blood — ever present in the fridge, constant and shared to the coven. At first Hwanwoong had thought they just hunted often, but that wasn’t the case at all.

“Youngjo really knows a lot of people, huh?” Hwanwoong commented idly as he nipped at the rim of the glass, tongue licking kittenishly at the liquid. 

Geonhak nodded, chewing slowly on the jerky. “He’s been around for so long — no discredit to you guys,” Geonhak started, interrupting himself slightly in humor, “But yeah, he’s a lot more sociable than me or… well, frankly, just me and Seoho, I guess. Maybe not as sociable as Keonhee could be, but he definitely knows a lot of people.”

And so Hwanwoong sipped at the blood, felt it wash down his throat and make his heart thunder in his head. 

(Because then why  _ him? _ Why him and Seoho and Keonhee; a question that always followed him. How was it that in the hundreds of people that Youngjo knew, that Youngjo loved,  _ how _ was it that somehow it had been fated? That Hwanwoong bleeding and hurt was allowed to become Hwanwoong happy and safe and a home found in more than just his hands?)

“I’m definitely more sociable,” Hwanwoong said, and grinned at the incredulous look Geonhak shot his way.

“You almost clawed off my face when I woke you up that one time. You also disappeared behind Youngjo hyung when the doorbell rang once,” Geonhak deadpanned. 

“I said  _ sociable, _ not brave,” Hwanwoong bit back lightly. 

Geonhak looked at him; thought that Hwanwoong was far braver than anyone he had ever met, unabashed in his courage. But he didn’t say anything and finished the jerky and left Hwanwoong to clean his cup, making the other whine and complain.

•────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅────•

Hwanwoong washed his cup and left it on the rack to dry. With a stretch, he breathed in, filling his lungs with the scent of home. 

He hummed as he left the house, looking around at the vast expanse of trees in front of him, spotting the clearing, and humming ever so slightly to himself as he walked through the paths. He checked to make sure his phone was on him, snapping a few pictures as well. 

The sky was beginning to darken into black, stars appearing one by one. By the time he was at the clearing, there were constellations forming, lines crossing the length of the heavens and making phantoms in the air. Faintly, he saw a flare of silver from the moon, and he sighed. 

He sat down on the ground, felt the grass and tore some from the soil, before feeling remorseful and stopping — twiddling with his thumbs instead and playing with the amulet in his hands. He breathed in again, then unclasped his necklace gently. 

He let it fall into his hands, heavy and wide and shining against his palms, weighted and making the air turn still. He stared at it for a few moments, felt something warm climb from the tips of his fingers, crawl into his throat and down into his chest, settling there heavily. He looked up again at the sky, saw all of the clouds that weren’t there before — saw the shapes of the heavens carve themselves into the darkness. He felt fire run beside him, felt water trickle from far underneath. 

He felt the memories of sunlight take his hands, singe at his fingertips. There was the sound of magic swirling, coloring, making him taste kindness on his tongue. It was floating, but sinking against the weight of the world, too. He blinked, saw the flashes of color, burning patterns into the darkness, and then when he opened his eyes he could see the traces of them. Running across roots and forming mazes in the leaves, making insects glow and the clouds above him thrum with thunder. There was a controlled symphony, lingering and dancing, curling under flowers and rising above the canopy. 

He hummed, felt the sound of it make his world rumble, and then with a smile he put the necklace back on. 

The world went slightly colder, again. Music softened in his ears, and his chest felt emptier. He chewed lightly on his lip, bringing up his hand and biting at the tips of his fingers, and stood back up.

The sky was just stars, again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :'DD a little more heavy lore dumps HEHEHEHEH  
> It might not make sense now, but it (hopefully) will soon !!!   
> Leave some comments about theories and whatnot, I'll be excited to read them!! (I might be a bit slow in replying though ;;)   
> I hope you guys have had a good week, and may the next week also be good for you all!


	42. forty two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiya! as always, this is unbeta-ed so feel free to leave a comment if there's any errors! 
> 
> Warnings! some mentions of death at the end, but no actual death occurring! also there's a bit of an excerpt that deals pretty explicitly with anxious thoughts. stay safe and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Seoho woke up to the sight of the ceiling swirling with threads of gold and red, forming cascades of designs sprawling across the dark wood. He pushed himself up, sitting on the bed, and was greeted with the sight of Hwanwoong and Youngjo once more sleeping with their hands threaded together; a gentle, lingering clutching of hearts. He smiled, feeling warm, the comfort of it spreading quickly through cold and empty veins. 

He looked beside him and held back incredulous laughter at the sight of Geonhak, an arm thrown over Seoho’s legs in sleep. He shook his head fondly and looked at Dongju and Keonhee, both asleep. Dongju was clutching tightly at his plushie, blanket thrown half over his face, and Keonhee was hogging the blanket Geonhak was supposed to have been using. It was nice, and warm, and Seoho would never say it but he loved them all.

He looked back at Hwanwoong, past the cloud of gold and scarlet magic. He saw the fluffy blanket around the other start falling, and he gently pushed Geonhak’s arm off his legs. He walked over to Hwanwoong then pulled it up, and the other gave a content sound of a trill, making Seoho grin earnestly in the early evening light. Beside him, Youngjo’s eyes blearily opened before closing once more, content and calm and Youngjo burrowing further into Hwanwoong’s space. It was absurd, Seoho could almost think — how utterly stupid Youngjo could be for Hwanwoong. (How utterly stupid Hwanwoong could be, as well.)

It was his family, and he started to walk towards the bathroom, feeling sickly sweet and making his own magic curl around him like candy. 

He felt ice shoot through his chest and the clouds crystallize into shards of glass when Youngjo’s phone rang. 

The room around him came to life, his coven waking one by one to the sound. (Came closer to fear, which Helios had injected roughly into their souls as they screamed, and he wanted to cry and beg for them to go back to sleep.) 

It was still familiar, and Seoho knew that memories did not dissipate only after a few days. (He still had vestiges of his own past clinging to his skin, marring the grass with flames. There were still the distant echoes, ringing in his ears, making his hands clench and nails dig into cold skin. And now this, this feeling of something chasing behind them again and hands grasping at the edges of their tattered clothes and grabbing their hair and making everything turn darker than even the night and the skies she tried to lend her children.)

He saw the apprehension — the dread, worry, all of the mania that appeared in the seconds before a  nightmare — flash in their faces, and he felt the same feeling rise and push against his lungs like a parasite. 

Geonhak picked up the phone as Youngjo and Hwanwoong tensely tried to unfurl themselves from the blanket they were sharing. Hard lines crossing their shoulders, making their magic turn harsh and electric against their breaths. Red and gold blades cutting into the air, joining the frayed ends of Seoho’s daggers, shielding pink fragments of sharp anger.

Seoho heard a familiar voice, but not someone he’d ever met — not Yonghoon or his coven, not anyone from Hongjoong’s coven, either. She’d called, once or twice, over the weeks where ringing was equitable to fear. 

Right now, her voice was coming through the speakers in rushed, pained, alarmed tones, and Seoho could feel the way that the room sank into freezing water. Geonhak’s expression was wincing, more grave and unnerved, and throat closing, and tears gathering in his eyes, and breaths stuttering. It gathered in him, made his arms shake, before he finally answered, “I’ll tell him.” 

The line went dead, and Geonhak had to drop the phone onto the bed before he crushed it in his grip.

There was a silence that sounded like screaming. 

(It was suffocating. A noxious mist that made everything feel like the world was too small and there was no space for anything but fear, and disgust, and regret. Hwanwoong couldn’t breathe past it; something locking in his jaw and making teeth grind together, made fangs bite into the inside of his mouth, made claws rip at the surface of skin. 

Geonhak was staring at the phone, fists clenched and knuckles white. He could remember the way that he’d felt when he’d ran away — when he’d left behind everything he had because he had nothing — except this was everything and he felt as if he were losing it. 

Youngjo was reminded of the feeling of emptiness in his chest, where he didn’t have what he wanted because he didn’t know how to have it. He could almost think that this as the time where he knew nothing of love, because fear and pain and that striking match of danger made him feel as if he were a child all over again, not knowing what he wanted and all that he wished for left behind in the dust of the ground he tread.)

Dongju took careful steps towards them, hands unsure as he reached out to Hwanwoong. Hwanwoong flinched from where he was standing, a red flash in his eyes that came in tandem with a snarl. Dongju pulled back slightly, but he kept a kind smile on his face, and then Hwanwoong’s posture eased. Dongju held Hwanwoong’s hand gently. 

“Sorry,” Hwanwoong whispered, barely audible, and Dongju waved it away as they waited for Geonhak.

“She said that there was another detonation,” Geonhak ground out. Youngjo’s eyes were faraway as he nodded. 

“Do you want to go to the city?” Dongju asked, looking around the room gently. 

Hwanwoong’s grip tightened around Dongju’s, making Dongju look at the other, and he stopped when he saw Hwanwoong’s fearful expression. 

“If we go there, we’re going to endanger the lives of everyone,” Hwanwoong said — decided, and sure, and so familiar with it that Dongju knew Hwanwoong had already dealt with this before somehow. (Hwanwoong and Seoho and Keonhee, familiar with the cutting blades of grass that bled from the rays of Helios’ light. They knew of the nightmares and shadows that were made by the flames, trying to fool whoever it could with false kindness.)

Youngjo stood from where he’d been sitting, soft footsteps, and the rest of his coven watched as he gently wound his arms around Hwanwoong and Dongju. He breathed slow breaths, and he brought them closer to him and felt their chests stutter. 

No matter how old, Hwanwoong looked young. Right now, he looked afraid of the world past his coven, and Youngjo was reminded of Dongju stepping outside of a home that did not love him. He was reminded of Geonhak tending a fire in silence and the incense of betrayal in the air. He could see the mirage of Seoho crouched on the ground, fangs bared and eyes blazing with flames. He remembered those moments and thought about how fear was not what made him love them.

Youngjo trusted. He was kind, and he was forgiving, but he was not a fool. He knew the sun, had studied it as his curiosity, had watched the light shine on leaves and catch those rays. 

He let himself trust, to be kind to himself, because he  _ wanted _ to. 

Fear did not control him. He valued honor, and expected himself to be paid that respect. He trusted only those who he knew deserving of it — had trusted Hwanwoong and Seoho and Keonhee because they were prepared to trust. He’d trusted the words of a fledgling that wanted to be safe, trusted Geonhak when the other smiled and let himself be held.

(Helios had played with every one of them. Pawned both light and darkness, because he knew nothing of generosity.

And Youngjo knew the sun, knew its light and its heat. 

He knew its arrogance, as well. Knew how it turned from day to night.)

“Then we can stay here,” Youngjo decided. 

“And what if they  _ come here?” _ Hwanwoong said, voice low and severe. 

“Then we make them go away,” Youngjo answered, voice unrelenting. 

(Vulnerability a fading but present color, because he knew deep in empty blood that he would not lose them. His tears would fall, and he would let them, because he had his coven and that was all he needed.) 

“Youngjo,” Hwanwoong said, voice harsh in his panic, eyes wide and shaking as he pushed against Youngjo’s chest.

“They’ll kill you before they let me go,” Hwanwoong pleaded, and there was a fragility to his words. The moon bleeding once more into him, because she never left but she would let herself hide under the warmth of the covens that she promised. Again, Youngjo could see the light shining underneath shadows, could see the way that there were spires of gold that still remained unspoken under Hwanwoong’s skin he had simply never found it in himself to ask about anymore. 

Geonhak’s voice came from behind them, a declaration loud and ringing and promising. “They can try.”

Hwanwoong’s breath came out in a long, drawn out sound, and it sounded like the waves crashing on the shoreline. 

•────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅────•

They let Hwanwoong take his journal and bring it to Youngjo’s old study. (After Seoho took his hands, let Hwanwoong lean his head on his chest and Hwanwoong was reminded that Seoho would do anything for him. After Keonhee hugged him, whispered something in Eleian, comforted him because Keonhee always could. After Geonhak squeezed around him tightly, the dichotomy truly amusing and forcing a laugh out of Hwanwoong. After Dongju looked at him in the eyes, told him that he loved him — that Dongju loved him no matter what he brought with him — and made Hwanwoong smile. After he looked up at Youngjo and the other locked their fingers together and brought them gently to his lips, hearing the other promise and ask Hwanwoong to promise him the same.)

He sat down on the chair, sinking into the overly soft cushion. Briefly, he looked around at the books; at familiar titles from the worn pages of leather, and the foreign words gilded in gold. And then he looked down at the journal in his hands — the cover worn ever so slightly over the months he’d kept it, still shining bright in its dyes and standing the test of time with his care. 

He opened it, pulled gently at the ribbon and parted the pages. He thumbed at the paper, fingers gently pressing down on the letters, on his thoughts, on his memories. 

He stopped over the scribblings of hectic writings from late nightmares, when he would wake silently from the sight of screaming and the sound of tears. When there would be silence in the room and the curtain could mask the world in the lie that it was not yet the evening, and so his coven could sleep while he choked on air and the remnants of blood that threatened to rise from old and forgotten wounds. When it would feel as if there was a pool of crimson on his tongue and the only way to fix it would be to write down his thoughts, lest he drown in them. 

There were characters there that he had grown up with — taken the time to learn because it was still new to his hands and unfamiliar in the way that it was made, after the years of nothing in his grasp but the nights and the dirt of old cities. Seoho’s patient words and kindness, open and unwary. Then there were those figures that had simply become his. One day he had never known them, and the next he had the images of them printed in clear strokes and consonants. 

(It had taken time, to teach it to Seoho and Keonhee. It was hard to explain what the words meant, because Hwanwoong just had to have  _ known. _ It hadn’t given him books, hadn’t ever given him the leisure of repeating the words to associate sound with meaning. It had simply been there and he had to have understood that it was that way.) 

He scrawled down his memories — the weight in his chest, the way that Youngjo’s eyes were still tired, Geonhak’s jaw firmly locked, Keonhee’s voice shook and wavered. Another entry in his journal, something else he never wanted to forget. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :'D sorry for the even later update this time around ;;~;; school has been really swamping me with stuff and I haven't had much time. Hopefully I'll be able to catch up in a few weeks!   
> and,, yeah! lots of buildup still :') hopefully it hasn't become boring or something like that dhnsndjsnsj something is happening quite soon!!!  
> as always, I appreciate any feedback ^^ take care of yourselves and have a great week you guys!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you liked it, please leave some comments and you can talk with me about the fic! I have a few plans for the plot already, but I'll be parsing out the updates as I go.  
> [twt](https://twitter.com/xtyokhcii)


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